From dirt 2: From death to life
by Setrus
Summary: The archdemon is dead, yet the threat of the darkspawn endures. As such the shadow of the woman she once was, Lynn Tabris, travels to Amaranthine, to do her duty, to ruthlessly purge the land with fire and steel, to forget...
1. Chapter 1

Mhairi was beyond exhausted.

The daughter of a trader, a boring profession in her mind, she had been proud to change her lot in life, to become a soldier, and then a knight of Ferelden...and it had not been a second too late. Unfortunately she hadn't been there for the glorious battle for Denerim, instead she had been left behind in Amaranthine, to fight the small bands of darkspawn that had been detached from the main horde. She had not appreciated that, but had done her duty.

At least things had gotten more exciting after the victory at Denerim; that with much of the horde having fled northwards...but by then Mhairi hadn't been content to merely fight them as any other soldier. No, she had heard of the great heroics of the wardens, two wardens against an entire blight, against the treachery of Loghain...and who had against the odds been victorious. Who could _not_ be inspired by such a tale! So when the call had come, asking for more people to join the wardens, to create more heroes, there had really been no choice for Mhairi but to sign up.

So she had been sent south, to the rebuilt Denerim, to get her Commander to be, to escort the _hero_ of Ferelden herself!

She had honestly been giddy about it.

It was hard to stay giddy now though. Marching at a murderous pace through a road that had been washed away by the pouring rain, her heavily armoured feet sinking into the mud with each step, her body aching from exertion, her mind foggy with exhaustion. Instead she focused on pulling her feet out of the mud as she continued her march, head bowed and her breath coming out in small puffs of condensation due to the rain-induced cold.

The hero of Ferelden had not been what Mhairi had expected. Of course she had known the woman would be an elf, the tales of her heroics were sung far and wide after all...but there had still been a bit of a shock to realise the far smaller woman was the one the troubadours sang tales about. Of course that impression had evaporated the moment the elf had set her eyes on her.

Mhairi only knew Lynn Tabris' eyes were amber due to seeing them from the side, because whenever the elf looked directly at her...Mhairi had found herself looking away, an odd sense of revulsion and fear rolling over her. So she had looked away, at the elf's gold and green armour that seemed to be far too ancient for a woman of her station, at her thin lips that always seemed to be frowning, at the tousled black hair topping the angular face...but not her eyes, never that.

Their first meeting had been scary.

The elf hadn't asked many question, not even welcomed Mhairi to the order. There had been no handshake, only a few clipped words...and then the order to follow. Despite her experience Mhairi had felt like a fresh recruit again, nearly naked as she stood in front of her drill instructor yelling at the shivering little girl...despite being in full armour and towering over the little elf that was supposed to be her Commander.

It had been humbling.

So now they were moving north, at a pace Mhairi didn't know was possible. Glancing back Mhairi noted that at least the ten soldiers coming with them could hold onto the the cart with the Commander's belongings, drawn by a mule that by now must hate the Commander as much as the soldiers glaring at Lynn's back.

Lynn paid the glares no heed though, the woman apparently having an endless amount of stamina as she trudged on at the front. Despite being shorter then any of the others, despite that she by all right should be _weaker_..._she_ was the one setting the pace...and she hadn't let it up for the entire week. They were allowed to sleep for six hours, have a short breakfast without fires....and then the march continued...the only other meal was dinner and that too came without any cooking fires.

Mhairi had at first endured the hardships in silence, who was she to question her Commander's hurry? But on the third day she hadn't been able to hold her tongue and had, half jokingly, asked if this was some sort of test Lynn was putting her through.

She had received a clipped 'yes'...then nothing more.

So she continued in silence, _determined_ not to fail her Commander...though by now it was getting harder and harder...she couldn't help but hear her body cry out for _rest_! But she gritted her teeth and continued, she was _not_ one to concede defeat, and she was _not_ one to fail their hero.

_At least we're nearly there_.

Mhairi eyed the road ahead, despite the darkness and heavy rain she could tell they were close to Vigil's Keep, the seat of government of Amaranthine, the heart of the arlship the wardens had been granted by the queen of Ferelden. _And with this rain there won't even be a proper welcoming_...she nearly smirked at the thought. _Though all I want by now is some warm food and a bed_...

Glancing backwards once more she saw the ten soldiers holding onto the cart...formally to keep it from getting mired in the mud, which it had yet to do thanks to the strong mule pulling it...but in reality to keep themselves from falling over with exhaustion. They were all glaring daggers at Lynn's back, worrying mutterings escaping them as they struggled on. _And they need it too_..._not a moment too soon_...._doesn't the Commander realise this_?

As far as Mhairi knew Lynn was a great leader of soldiers, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to win against both Loghain and the blight surely...yet so far Mhairi had seen none of it. Only a hard look, uncaring of the weaknesses of everyone else. _Another thing confusing me about her_..._surely she realises a leader shouldn't rule with just the whip_?

There was no answer in the face staring straight ahead as the Commander marched onwards. Naturally pale the Commander's gaunt and stony face gave her an unnatural look in the darkness, as if she was a ghost. _Or a skeleton_...Mhairi grimaced, there was not a _hint_ of fat on the elf's face...and Mhairi knew from experience among starving soldiers that such a thing was dangerous. Mhairi had realised Lynn was anything _but_ the hero she had imagined. _Oh well_..._guess I shouldn't be surprised, I admired Loghain as well once upon a time_...

"Someone is coming."

Mhairi blinked, only slowly realising her Commander had spoken, despite having seen the elf's lips moving. So far the elf hadn't said _anything_ save the short answer to Mhairi's questions...she had merely silenced any complaints of the soldiers with short glances...and that had been it. But now she spoke, as before, without any emotion, as if nothing could move her.

Shaking her head Mhairi looked ahead of them, to focus on what the Commander had said. At first she saw nothing, only more darkness and rain...but then something stumbled into view. A man, his arms flailing as he struggled to remain upright as he ran forward, his gasping breaths reaching Mhairi's ears despite the rain.

"Maker's breath..." Mhairi's eyes widened as the man got close enough to discern. "...that's one of the Keep's men!"

Dozens of scenarios ran through Mhairi's mind as she saw the man, barely dressed in leather armour stumble towards them. _A messenger_? She noted his lack of weapons. _Deserter_? She saw his wide eyes, full of fear. _Oh_ _no_... The bloodied gash across his chest. _Oh Maker no_... Mhairi swallowed. _But I haven't been gone for that long, and the Orlesian warden's were in the keep now_..._did they_..._no_..._no that can't be it_..._can it_? _Why would they_..._no_..._but the keep couldn't have fallen from the outside_..._could it_?

A moment later she got her answer as she saw new shapes appear, shadowing the man, closing in on him.

_Genlocks_. Mhairi's face contorted with disgust, she hated genlocks...and the fact they were chasing a man from the keep only made the hatred grow._ If they have killed my friends_...she pulled her sword free.

And then there was a golden blur flying ahead of her.

Blinking, Mhairi watched the Commander, apparently not the least fatigued from their heavy march, draw her weapons and hurtle forward. A jump and the elf leapt over the stumbling soldier, the axe in her left hand cleaving into the shoulder of the first genlock, the sword in her right hand instantly following and stabbing into the maw of the shrieking creature, felling it.

The second pursuing genlock howled and leapt at the elf still having her weapons buried in the first darkspawn...who quickly spun counter-clockwise and sent her left foot smashing into the chest of the genlock with a loud crunch as its ribs snapped.

Freeing her blades with the spin the elf didn't stop, her axe swinging in a wide arc, bashing aside the thrusting daggers of a third genlock before her sword was thrust in through its chest.

Three dead genlocks...in just as many heartbeats.

Then the elf was gone, swallowed up by the darkness and the rain...the only sign she was still there the sounds of crunching bones and armour and the cries of dying darkspawn.

_Am I supposed to_...? Mhairi hesitated, then looked down at the man now on all four before her. _Right_, _focus_. "Soldiers, to me." Mhairi sheathed her sword and crouched down to help the wounded man to his feet, the others moving as best they could to obey as they through the mud more or less carried the obviously exhausted man to their cart.

Ignoring the irritated glare of the mule Mhairi helped the man to sit down atop the front of the cart, where no driver had so far been needed...nor liked...by the mule. The man's face was covered with mud from earlier falls, streaks made in it by the rain pelting them, most telling however was his laboured breath and the way his hand clutched the diagonal wound across his chest where the armour had failed to protect him. He managed a weak smile at the sight of her though. "I..._know_ you...thank you."

"It was nothing." Mhairi glanced over at the road ahead, still hearing the sound of combat and cries of dying darkspawn, wondering if she should run after her Commander. _Then again she __doesn't seem to have any problems_..._focus_. She grabbed the man's arm, irritated that she didn't remember his name. "Soldier, what is happening? What's the situation at the keep?"

"Darkspawn..." The man shook his head, frowning even as he gasped for breath, as if not really believing it himself. "...they came...underground...I _think_..." He shook his head, eyes closing. "They were _everywhere_ all of a sudden...the Orlesians didn't sense them...I...they were overwhelmed...I...I was at the gate of the Keep...some of us ran..." He looked up, into the darkness ahead of them. "...the others...aren't coming...are they?"

_This is a nightmare_..._got to be_. Mhairi shook the man, forcing him to look back down at her, her tone insistent: "How many are alive? Has the keep fallen? I need to _know_!"

"I...I...don't know..." The man shook his head, eyes widening. "I...still heard fighting but..." His eyes closed again, a shudder running through him. "...they were so many...how could anyone be alive...?"

"You would be surprised." Came the calm retort as the Commander appeared out of the rain, the blood covering her armour quickly being washed away by the pouring rain. The hard eyes bore into the wounded soldier, making him cringe back. "Still alive? Good." She looked over at Mhairi, making the knight avert her gaze. _Dammit_..._I feel like a child_! "You didn't follow."

_An accusation_..._or_ _just_ _a_ _statement_? Mhairi licked her lips, gesturing meekly at the soldier on the cart. "N-no I...was questioning him as to what has happened."

"And?"

Was that cold sweat down her back? Or just more rain? "Erm...the Keep has been infiltrated by darkspawn..." Mhairi swallowed, painfully aware that Lynn probably had deduced that much already. So she just stared at her feet, unable to meet the frown no doubt covering the Commander face. "There's still fighting through, the keep is not theirs yet...and it seems as if the Orl-I mean wardens already there didn't sense the darkspawn until it was too late."

"Magic most likely." Lynn concluded, voice not betraying any sign of what she actually thought of Mhairi's decision. "We will save the keep then. Soldiers, you stay with the cart and defend it with your lives, there are important documents in it, do I make myself clear?"

The soldiers nodded silently, looking a little relieved at the idea of being left behind. _That means I won't be_..._right_?_ Good_.

"Do I make myself _clear_?" Lynn repeated, a warning in her tone, making Mhairi shudder. _Poor darkspawn_..._they don't know what's about to hit them_.

As one the men straightened and thumped their chests, eyes forward. "Yes Commander!"

"Good." Lynn's gaze fell upon Mhairi again, making the knight swallow and look away. "Mhairi, you're with me, keep up or be left behind."

_I won't fail, not now, not with this at stake_. Mhairi straightened, pushing the exhaustion and fear aside with practised efficiency. "Yes Commander, I'm with you Commander." She thumped her chest with a mailed fist, the idea of fighting ahead invigorating her.

"Good." Lynn whirled about...and begun to run...instantly disappearing into the rain.

Mhairi groaned as she drew her shield and sword, her aching legs reminding her of her march as she realised she would have to run after the elf or _be_ left behind. One of the soldiers whistled as she begun to run, cheerfully calling out. "Good luck!" Mhairi groaned again, her limbs feeling heavy as she rushed through the darkness and rain, after the barely visible little spot that was the elf ahead of her.

_With the darkspawn_..._or the Commander_?


	2. Chapter 2

It was a nightmare.

The rain, the darkness, the monsters...it was as if all had been taken from the nightmares Mhairi had had as a child, she was almost certain of it. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps she was still just twelve years of age, curled up in her bed and vainly trying not to see the monsters take shape in the grains of the walls closing in around her?

But no, her childish imagination couldn't have conjured up the horrors she'd seen in the keep itself, the sight of the many dead, comrades in arms she had eaten and trained with just a week ago...her mind wasn't able to be so cruel.

She had fought darkspawn before, it wasn't that...it was how close to home it was, how personal it had suddenly gotten...it left her struggling to focus.

As such Lynn was a mixed blessing, both the knight in shining armour, saving a Mhairi overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the destruction...and the heart of the nightmare itself.

It had started with the ogre that had managed to surprise Mhairi out on the courtyard, the creature grabbing a hold of her, squeezing her so tightly she felt as if she would just explode even as it pulled back its other hand and curled it into fist...ready to pound her into a paste.

Then the Commander had been there, the elf climbing the suddenly howling ogre's back using her weapons as scaling tools before standing atop its shoulders and smashing its skull apart with repeated blows to its head.

It had been heroic, Mhairi had felt such relief...and horror. The elf was already covered in gore when she was atop the ogre...and literally bathed in it as the creature's skull burst. Yet it hadn't moved the elf. She hadn't killed the ogre with any growl of berserk rage, no cry of hatred, nor desperation...nothing to which a warrior usually turned to. Neither had she even for a moment celebrated its death, looked a little relieved...even taken a breath to steady herself. She had simply killed it and moved on...as if it was nothing but a small hurdle, it might as well have been paperwork for all the Commander cared, the fact that she had saved Mhairi's life nothing but a insignificant bonus.

_That_ had been scary.

It didn't stop at the courtyard though, the inside of the keep was a nightmare of screams, dying soldiers and hordes of darkspawn...blood covering the floor she had admonished now dead servants for never sweeping properly...it just didn't fit with what she remembered, confusing her. The darkspawn had been everywhere...rushing at them, a wall of diseased flesh and steel, hatred made corporeal.

And the Commander had met it with a far more frightening thing..._indifference_...as if the chaos and horrors were nothing. She rushed in among the darkspawn...and none of them could touch the elf as she tore them apart with frightening efficiency and disinterest. It wasn't often one saw darkspawn retreat...but Mhairi had already seen it half a dozen times by now.

There was nowhere to run though, and the darkspawn always ended up cornered and desperately lunging for a warden who might as well have been a tranquil for all she cared of their decision when to die to her blades.

Like now.

Crying out, Mhairi smashed her shield into the face of a genlock, making it reel back before her sword crushed through its chest...then she smashed her shield into its face again, knocking it off her weapon. Another instantly took its place though, curved daggers lunging for Mhairi's face before she, with practised efficiency, raised her shield to push the weapons upwards as her sword darted out, digging deep into the beast's abdomen.

A squeal, fetid breath washing against her face as the creature clutched at her shield...and the genlock fell.

Turning to help her Commander, Mhairi realised there was no need, as always.

Spinning in a low crouch Lynn's weapons was a mere blur, cleaving the legs off a hurlock at its knees and gutting two genlocks as the beasts tried to close in around the elf. Moving with the spin her left foot shoot up, the heel crashing into the face of another hurlock, smashing its teeth apart even as the sword in her right hand parried a thrusting dagger of a genlock while her axe tore through the skull of another genlock.

The genlock and hurlock, the first having lost its dagger to the force of Lynn's parry, the other with its maw covered in blood and pieces of its teeth, retreated.

There was nowhere to go though, they were atop a gallery flanking the path to the inner gate of the keep, the only two ways were the stairs behind the two warriors...and the closed door that the hurlock and genlock now desperately tried to wrench open.

It was locked however, and the two turned, the hurlock the first to lunge for the woman.

The thrusting blade was casually batted aside by the calmly advancing Lynn, her own sword darting out in a lightning fast riposte, nicking the creature's throat.

It was enough to send a spurt of dark blood out of the creature's neck though. Howling, a hand reached towards the wound...only to fall limply to its side as the beast fell past the still advancing Lynn.

The genlock shrieked, desperate as it crouched low and hurled itself, head first, at the elf's abdomen, its unarmed hands reaching up towards her throat in a desperate bid to catch her off guard.

Lynn's knee shot up, crashing into the genlock's head, crushing its face and sending it stumbling backwards... Only to come to a stop as her axe hooked into its shoulder, which then pulled it back towards...and then past...the elf and her swinging sword.

The genlock slipped onto its knees as it stumbled past the elf, eyes wide as its hands reached for its throat...a nearly human look of panic in its eyes....before its head fell forward, cleanly cut from its shoulders.

_She doesn't even need me_... Normally the thought would have been a bitter one, but Mhairi felt too stunned to feel it. There was something...chilling with her Commander. _Do I really want to become a warden_? She eyed the Commander as the woman marched towards the locked door, as if expecting it to magically open the moment she got close. _Not if becoming a warden means becoming_..._whatever that thing is_.

She had studied up on her Commander, so Mhairi _knew_ Lynn was technically a warrior of guile, trained not as a warrior, but as a rogue.

It didn't show as the elf, instead of trying to pick the lock of the door, spun counter-clockwise with her steps, sword, then axe smashing into the door, sharp blades covered in enchantments cleaving through the sturdy wood.

The kick following that tore apart the already damaged door, two shorn halves of it crashing into the floor in a cloud of splinters and dust that the elf stepped right through, unconcerned with what might await on the other side.

_I want to be a hero, not suicidal_. Mhairi gritted her teeth and followed though, refusing to be left behind, despite the feeling that the Commander really didn't care what she chose to do._ I'll prove myself, don't you worry_.

Any worries of her worthiness disintegrated the moment she got through the doorway though, replaced by irritation at the sight of the scene unfolding before her. There Lynn stood, head cocked to the side, and observing as a man dressed in blue robes standing among the corpses of templars and darkspawn alike...and pouring a torrent of magical fire into an already wounded hurlock before him. Wearing a single earring of gold and with his mane of blond hair somewhat unkempt the man gave a roguish impression, which wasn't at all helped by the constant twinkle of amusement in those brown eyes of his.

He was handsome Mhairi supposed...not that she had noticed...

A final miserable growl escaped the darkspawn...and it fell, its head merely a smouldering piece of charcoal.

"_Ouch_..." The mage made a decidedly unmanly sound as his hands shot up to his face...dipping his fingers into his mouth ever so briefly before he lowered them with some vigorous shaking. "...I hate fire spells..."

_Great, had almost forgotten about him_..._ugh_. Mhairi rolled her eyes as the man turned to look at the new arrivals, instantly noticing her. "Oh it's the beautiful knight, what may I do for you?" The man smirked, head cocked to the side in the way the fool apparently believed charming and pulled his robe in order. "Want to play twenty questions again?"

Mhairi winced at the slight glance the Commander shot her. _I was bored_... "Act with some respect maleficar, you're before the hero of Ferelden and Commander of the wardens...and _how_ did you get out of your cell?"

The man arched an eyebrow, still smirking. "That's apostate my lady, and proud of it, and as for you Commander..." The smirk died as the man looked down at Lynn, his jugular moving as he suddenly found himself swallowing. Now it was Mhairi's turn to smirk. _Good, serves you right_. "...I...erm...welcome to your keep?" He made a furtive gesture towards the destruction and gore surrounding the gaping cell door.

The elf said nothing, head still cocked to the side as she regarded the mage before her, making him nervously shift from foot to foot as he looked away.

"I repeat, _how_ did you get out?" Mhairi pressed, well aware of the distance she needed to cross to reach the man. He might not seem all that dangerous at first glance...but the now dead templars had been vehement in their insistence on keeping him under close watch...and Mhairi understood why all too well now.

"Bill here let me out." The man nudged one of the gore-covered templars with a foot and a grimace, then rolled his eyes. "Oh the pains of being an apostate! First it's all 'you're under arrest' this and 'you're a very bad person' that...the next it's all 'oh please save us with the magic we hate you for having'...it's really kind of irritating you know?"

"Not that it helped him..." Mhairi noted, eyes narrowed as she shot the dead templar a nod.

"Oh right, never mind the dozen of darkspawn, one of them still with its blade stuck in the templar here..." The man rolled his eyes and nudged the other templar corpse, which indeed had a blackened blade stuck in its chest, he raised his hands and waved them in the air with a smirk. "...surely their deaths were the cause of the eeevil apostate..."

Mhairi felt her cheeks warm in irritation. _Such blatant disregard for the lives of others_! _Such_...._ugh_! "Why you-"

"Who are you?" Lynn's voice cut through the two's talks, silencing them both.

Once more balancing from one foot to the other the man managed a weak smile as he looked over at Lynn, or rather a little over her shoulder. "Anders...mage of the circle, or apostate of the circle...when I fancy a walk out in the free." Mhairi snorted in a strange mix or amusement and irritation, making the man smirk as he shot her a look. "Was on my way back to the circle tower you see, dreadful accommodations you have by the way..." He shot a thumb back towards his cell with a grin more aimed at Mhairi then the woman he was actually talking to. "...when we had a bit of a run-in with these other guests that clearly didn't feel the need to pay rent..._or_ respect proper etiquette apparently..."

Mhairi gritted her teeth, forcing the chuckle threatening to burst out from escaping her lips. Lynn didn't seem the least amused though, her head still cocked to the side, as if listening to someone else as she was talking to the man. "And your position in this?"

"My position...?" Anders blinked, swallowing as he risked a glance down at the elf whose gaze was boring down into him. "I...well I owe no one any allegiance really..." He licked his lips nervously, gaze darting to the blades in Lynn's hands. "...but I don't fancy my chances alone either...darkspawn have this tendency to stab soft fleshlings like myself...I'd rather stop them from doing that..."

Silence.

The elf regarding the man still shifting from foot to foot, weighing him up.

Then a shrug.

"Good, you're with me." Lynn moved to leave.

"_What_?" Mhairi's question left her lips before she had a time to stop herself. A moment later she found herself frozen on the spot as the Commander's eyes bore into her, paralysing her. "I...Commander...he's...apostate...dangerous..."

"That's funny...you don't consider _yourself_ dangerous?" Anders pointed out, making Mhairi grit her teeth in irritation even as she felt the blood leave her face as Lynn's gaze continued to bore into her. _Maker_..._I can actually __feel__ it_..._it's like being stabbed_.... She swallowed, feeling naked all of a sudden. _Is she going to kill me now_....?

"He comes." Lynn ordered, words clipped, hard, _final_.

"Y-yes C-commander..."

Finally the elf looked way, making Mhairi's shoulders sag as she breathed an audible sigh of relief. Her body automatically moved to shirk away as Lynn stepped past her, the 'argument' apparently already forgotten by the Commander, the elf now focused on the death of more darkspawn, untroubled of the dangerous mage at her back.

As if to taunt her Anders put a hand on her shoulder as he passed her, all smiles. "Aww, don't worry, I'm kind of fun once you get to know me."

"I _bet_ you are." Mhairi pulled her shoulder away, irritated with the little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'm watching you..._apostate_."

A bow with a flourish...and the mage moved on. "Oh I'm counting on it..."

_Ugh_... Mhairi squared her shoulders and moved to follow the other two, glaring daggers into Anders' back. _This place will be the death of me_...


	3. Chapter 3

Mhairi watch their newest ally with a mixture of disgust and fascination.

Oghren had the moment he arrived a month ago struck Mhairi as a drunken lout, an idiot not even close to deserving of being a warden, never mind in _any_ army! Yet they had found him alive when others lay dead, found him fighting, killing...and _enjoying_ it! _Was I wrong about him_? _Could he become a good warden_?

As if to answer her the dwarf stopped, shifted a little where he stood...and loudly broke wind.

_Probably not_. Mhairi grimaced, nose wrinkling as she tried to hold the smell at bay while still holding her weapons...then gagged as it invaded her. _Dear Maker_!_ Did he eat the darkspawn_!

"Impressive." Anders dryly noted, the mage smirking as he patted the redheaded dwarf on the shoulder. "Bet I can beat that."

"Ah, if I had a copper for every time a human has said that..." Oghren grunted, reaching back with the immense axe in his hand to scratch his rear, making the still gagging Mhairi shudder. _The worst of the dwarven kind_..._and __he's__ the potential warden? Life is one big joke isn't it_? "...I'd have more ale."

"Perhaps we should then head for the cellar instead of the top of the keep then?" Anders suggested, _still_ smirking. _Maker I hate him_... "They have quite a selection down there, or so I heard."

"Later then, sounds fun." Oghren grunted. _At least he's quieter now then he was when I first met him_...

It had been odd actually, they had when first encountering the dwarf, seen him fight with such gusto, enjoying the fight with the many darkspawn, hacking them apart with brutal efficiency. Then he had greeted the new arrivals with a grin...that had partly faded when he looked to their leader. It had still been there, and he had given them a friendly welcome, _especially_ their leader, who he obviously knew from before.

Of course Mhairi had heard of the heroic Oghren battling beside Lynn at the battle of Denerim, of the great dwarven berserker. But she had when first seeing him assumed the man now marching with them had been some _other_ Oghren, for surely _he_ couldn't be the man of the growing legend? _Apparently my ideas of what a hero looks like have been __completely__ off_....

The woman had barely greeted her old comrade in arms though, a short nod, a short 'it's good to see you' that lacked any real conviction...and she had marched on, trusting him to follow...which he _had_.

Frustratingly enough the band was making good progress, tearing through any enemy in their path. The arrogant apostate that rubbed Mhairi wrong called down fire and ice upon their foes with fury even as he made his bad jokes, his discipline when fighting with the others surprisingly good, but perhaps a man fleeing into the unknown while hunted by templars needed that? She herself was a bulwark, as much there to deflect away the brunt of the enemy assault as to fight them...which she did well, hopefully well enough to be accepted by their silent leader. As for the smelly berserker...he did his part unfortunately, even his berserk swings couldn't match Lynn's furious killings...but it was a near echo of it, smashing aside anything surviving the Commander's charge.

_Commander_...Mhairi gritted her teeth, eyes moving from glaring at the obnoxious dwarf to that of the elf's back. She had _questioned_ him! Questioned a _dying_ man that by all right should have been given _comfort_! Been _cared_ for! He had died doing his duty...and she had just left him there, the knowledge of the 'talking' darkspawn apparently move important then the life of the man that had fought for her sake!

Mhairi was a commander of soldiers, she understood the need to do one's duty, that some sacrifices were needed to be made, that the ideal conclusion was never reached...but what was a victory owed to the loss of your humanity worth? If you couldn't bring yourself to even _rudimentary_ care...why even bother to fight? It was as frightening as it was reprehensible.

_At least this nightmare is soon over_. Mhairi dryly noted, knowing there was not many more places to go to anymore, everywhere they had gone there now lay dead darkspawn among the few survivors of the keep...and they had nearly gone everywhere by now, wreaking vengeance upon the creatures defiling Mhairi's home.

Ahead of her Lynn, always at the front, marched on, her feet snapping the scorched bones of the last hurlocks before the door whose deaths Anders had been responsible for. Behind the group a small horde of darkspawn lay, guts and blood covering the corridor, the creatures unable to escape the crushing press of steel and death that was the small group. _Is this the power of the wardens_?_ To change so much with so little_?_ There's so little I know_... Mhairi glanced at Lynn again. _So little I __want__ to know perhaps_...

As if to punctuate her thought Lynn's foot smashed into a scorched hurlock resting against the door at the end of the hall, breaking it apart into pieces of shattered bones, broken armour and burnt flesh. Mhairi gagged again, the smell of the creature falling apart making her shudder. _And I thought they smelled bad on the outside_...

Mhairi didn't get to contemplate the smells permeating the castle for long though, Lynn's foot once more shooting up, this time kicking up the door the hurlock had rested against, making Mhairi wonder if the woman was even _capable_ of opening them the normal way...

They had reached the top of the keep, the heavy rain, nearly coming in horizontally due to the howling wind, instantly making Mhairi shiver as they rushed out. Next to her she heard a whine of pain, making her shoot Anders in his robes a sympathetic look, they had gotten drenched in mere moments, becoming nothing but a wet towel, thin and clinging to him...Mhairi swallowed. _Huh_...

"Yeees?" Anders arched an eyebrow at her, smirking.

_Dammit_. Mhairi scowled at the man and opened her mouth to answer-

Only to be interrupted by a new voice. "Pathetic, you humans are surprisingly weak."

Turning Mhairi found herself blinking, her hands closing tighter around her shield and sword as she stared ahead.

The top of the keep wasn't large, barely enough for a small catapult in desperate need of repair and the battlements from behind which a thin line of archers was supposed to stand and fire down upon any advancing foes. There had been no invaders to fire down upon though, they had come from beneath...and instead the long drop down to the ground now acted to hem in the last two defenders that were the remains of a desperate last stand.

_One defender_...Mhairi sadly noted, the man held over the edge by the throat was already dead, he just didn't know it. Even as she watched the soldier held onto the wrist of the gnarled hand closed around his throat, as desperate to relieve the pressure as he was not to fall. His wide eyes stared at the massive hurlock holding him, clenched teeth shattering with fear.

The other defender wasn't much better off. Mhairi could recognise Seneschal Varel anywhere, the thick mane of grey hair and short beard and calm amber eyes were those of a veteran commander and Mhairi wasn't surprised to find the man still alive. But lying on his back, propped up on one elbow as his greatsword pointed out against the four other hurlocks closing in on him it was obvious he too was more or less doomed as well.

It was the one who held the soldier by the throat that drew Mhairi's attention though. Not only was it larger then the others, not only was it dressed in a far finer suit of chainmail than anything she'd ever seen a darkspawn wear, his curved and spiked sabre equally fine in quality. There was also the fact that it had spoken! And not just the odd threat an emissary was capable of, but a full sentence!

The voice was low and harsh, as if the creature's throat wasn't meant to speak the Ferelden tongue. Yet it was understandable, clear, calm..._eerie_...

"To think we lost against your kind..." The hurlock pulled the soldier closer, the crater where its nose was supposed to be wrinkling as it sniffed the man squirming in its grip. "...you _stink_ of fear."

It pushed out and released its grip on the man, drawing a loud cry of fear as he fell...then a crunch loud enough to reach them despite the howling of the winds. There's a palisade down there... Mhairi grimaced, the mental image of the near torn apart solider skewered upon the sharpened wooden stakes entering her mind all too readily.

"And as for you..." The darkspawn turned towards the Seneschal...only to stop as it turned its head to look at them. "...More people for the slaughter?" Pointed teeth appeared as it grinned. "Excellent...except you..." It pointed at Lynn, who only had her head cocked to the side, studying the huge hurlock with what Mhairi could only see as a _casual_ interest. _Maker we're lead by a nut_! "...I sense the taint in you..._excellent_..."

"You talk." Lynn's voice came out, short and clipped, nearly disinterested.

"There is much you don't know of our kind warden." The darkspawn snorted. "Surrender and I won't feed you to my men." He gestured for the four other hurlocks who by now had disarmed the obviously exhausted Seneschal and now stood behind their leader, making small lunges for the group, obviously _wanting_ to charge...but _holding_...

"No."

And then the elf was moving.

Her swinging blades were instantly parried by the chuckling darkspawn...only for the chuckle to turn into a grunt as her foot connected with his abdomen, forcing him backwards even as the other hurlocks charged in.

Mhairi moved on instinct, one moment she stood there, staring at the creature that defied all she knew of the 'mindless monsters'...the next she was slamming her shield into a hurlock, forcing it away from Lynn's right flank as the woman concentrated on their huge leader. To Mhairi's right Oghren crashed forth, the handle of his axe crashing into the face of another hurlock.

To Lynn's left Anders fingers poured liquid fire over the other two hurlocks drawing howls from them and making them lose interest in Lynn and instead close in on him. "Ah!" Anders pulled back, staff held in front of him as if it was an offering instead of a weapon as he tried to avoid the weapons swung by nearly blinded hurlocks.

Mhairi moved, trusting Oghren to handle the two other hurlocks she barrelled into the two hurlocks, bowling them over.

Behind her Oghren seemed to have no trouble though, his swinging axe chopping the right leg off the hurlock he had knocked over before the other got to its feet. He easily parried its overhand swing with the shaft of his axe though...and instead of returning the attack he pushed forth, his axe pushing the blade over the hurlock's head...and then down. A groan escaped the creature as its sword was trapped between its back and Oghren's axe-shaft as he used the weapon to hug the creature tightly, _too_ tightly...a crack and the creature went limp.

For Mhairi things weren't too hard either, the first hurlock to get to its feet getting its face caved in by a swinging shield, utterly blinding it and making it unable to parry Mhairi's swing that cleaved its head from its shoulders. The second managed a swing, that Mhairi easily parried before the creature went stiff, its flesh smouldering and armour covered with streaks of white lightning as a bolt of energy from Anders' palms struck its back.

A moment later it slumped to the ground, smoke still rising from where its flesh met its armour, revealing a grinning Anders.

To her utter frustration Mhairi grinned back.

There was no time to celebrate however, nor to recover by shooting the man a scowl, Mhairi turned, finding the duel between the two leaders still in full swing.

_Holy_...

While having been forced back initially the darkspawn was stronger, larger...and surprisingly swift with that heavy-looking blade of his. Lynn hadn't backed down though, the elf's axe and sword dancing left and right, parrying and attacking nearly on reflex, the warden's eyes focused on the darkspawn as she continued to advance. Her weapons were a blur, a storm hailing over the darkspawn as surely as the rain assaulting them.

The creature howled in anger as it realised its back was nearly against the edge of the long drop, sabre held in both hands it swung down upon the woman...who simply darted to the right, a backhanded swing of her axe opening a wound in the beast's shoulder. The hurlock didn't even feel the wound though, its sword instantly swinging after the woman...and slamming into her side.

_Maker no_!

Lynn doubled over, the heavy blade crashing through her golden armour, into her waist, making her drop her axe as she begun to list over the weapon.

The hurlock's grin went wide with victory.

Only to fade away.

Grasping the sword buried in her by the pommel with her left hand Lynn silently straightened, her eyes afire with....something that Mhairi couldn't identify.... Anger? Hatred? No...it was something she couldn't understand...didn't _want_ to understand.

The hurlock pulled its weapon back, but Lynn held onto it tightly, and instead of freeing it the darkspawn only pulled her closer, letting her stab her sword through his upper right arm, making him howl as she twisted the blade around, snapping the muscles.

The hurlock released its grip on its weapon, its left hand reaching out to grasp the profusely bleeding wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

In contrast Lynn simply wrenched the blade out of her side, tossing the weapon aside as the blood poured down over her hips and left leg, turning it crimson.

Then she spun, her sword a blur of silver.

And the hurlock's left arm thudded to the floor.

"Argh!" The darkspawn took a step back as it roared out, its limp right arm unable to stem the flow of blood from its left shoulder, its eyes staring at the wounds in rage.

"Anders." Lynn didn't turn, only advanced on the darkspawn. "Heal him."

_What_!

"What!" Anders and Oghren echoed Mhairi's shock, the knight too stunned for words. _What_ _in_..._are_ _we_ _led_ _by_ _a_ _psychopath_!

Lynn's gaze, hard, unwavering, despite her deep wound, shot back, making the others shiver. "Heal. Him."

"I...yes..." Anders moved his staff up, a small whisper escaping him...and the blood pouring from the creature's wounds slowed into a trickle.

"Now..." Lynn looked back at the darkspawn glaring at her. "...you will tell me everything you know." A small snort escaped the creature, making her add. "Our dungeon will convince you of that."

"Ha!" The hurlock laughed, laughed! It was a filthy sound, grating, worn, not really a laugh but a rattling that made Mhairi tense up. "You think pain will make me talk?" It shook its head, grin wide as it looked down at the still bleeding Lynn, making Mhairi jab the still staring Anders in the side. "I _am_ pain elf! I _thrive_ on it!" Lynn didn't even seem to care as the healing spell slowed her bleeding to something that wouldn't leave her dead in a few more moments, her eyes fixed on the creature. "You will learn _nothing_ from me! Save that which I _choose_ to tell you!"

Silence.

"I believe you."

And Lynn stepped forth, her right foot coming up and smashing into the chest of the darkspawn.

A howl of rage left it as it fell over the edge...the howl only ending with the loud crunch of it being skewered upon the palisade.

Silence.

Then Lynn moved again, over to the man still on his back, having stared at the exchange in as much wonder as the rest of them. "Seneschal Varel I assume, you live." Lynn stepped close enough to offer her hand, a hand her carefully took...an instant later he was pulled onto his feet, blinking in surprise as he looked down at the far smaller elf.

"I...yes...Commander." The man bowed his head slightly, pale and unsure. "I...that was something else..." He managed an uncertain smile. "Your timing is impeccable."

"If that had been the case I would have arrived before the attack." Lynn droned and turned away from the Seneschal, apparently thinking the introductions finished. Instead she looked over the edge of the keep. At first Mhairi thought she was looking for the strange darkspawn's corpse...but that was swiftly proven wrong as the elf cocked her head to the side, sounding awfully _neutral_ as she spoke: "And now the queen arrives with my additional men..."

_The_ _queen_? Mhairi swallowed and found herself sheathing her sword so she could draw her hand over her face, removing most of the blood covering it. _Oh_ _Maker_...

"Sodding...always late for the party...and did it have to be _her_?" Oghren grunted and eyed Lynn with an uncharacteristic glint of concern in his eyes. "Could we make this quick?"

"Yes, we could." Lynn cocked her head to the side, looking down at the procession of troops coming through the castle's still open gates. "And we will."

Mhairi grimaced at the implication, making an enemy of the queen seemed extremely foolish...especially since the queen was known for both her great heroism _and_ her ability for wreaking vengeance...neither of which Lynn apparently seemed to understand.

_Does she have __any__ idea __who__ she's talking about_!


	4. Chapter 4

Mhairi felt relief, _victory_, at the sight before her.

The darkspawn lay dead, the rain having turned into a slightly more comfortable drizzle making Mhairi able to discern the many dead creatures sprawled over the outer courtyard of the castle. The inner courtyard, behind the second ring-wall, had more dead, a testament to where the creatures had come from, but that only served to give a desperate impression, of a final struggle...meanwhile the outer courtyard instead gave the impression of hope. A few dead darkspawn strewn over the field...and orderly ranks of Ferelden troops forming up into neat squares in front of her.

To her right Oghren, stood, the dwarf disrespectfully spitting on the ground, earning him a glare from Mhairi. To her left Anders stood, the mage cringing at whatever he saw as the ranks of Ferelden steel and discipline lined up in front of him, perhaps fear? The knowledge his stay was at an end? Mhairi almost felt a sting of regret at that, almost.

The rain had washed away nearly all the blood from Lynn as their Commander stood at the head of the small group, her injury now wholly healed, though the great rent in her armour remained as she stood there, impassively watching the final squad of soldiers come to a halt a mere ten feet away. _A hundred men, the thin line of Ferelden_. Mhairi felt no worry over the small number though, only pride_. It'll hold, it will always hold_.

They came to a stop, a hundred steel boots slamming into stamped earth.

Then silence.

Silence save the gentle clopping of a single horse slowly moving through the gate.

Mhairi took a shuddering breath of nervousness as she saw the ranks of the squad nearest the gate open up, shields overlapping in making two small walls in between which _she_ came riding up to them...regal and proud....Mhairi swallowed.

Anora was all Mhairi had expected and more. Large grey eyes, regal and intelligent, blond hair pulled taut behind her head, sharp features, skin flawless and untouchable...a _queen_. She was also riding in full armour, silverite plate armour that leant the droplets of rain covering them a silvery shine, the sword strapped to her hip looking as if it was moulded to her. A _warrior_ queen, the one the nobles had all turned to when the equally noble king Alistair Theirin had died to save them, taking up where the end of a now dead noble line of kings as a queen matching any of them in bravery and ability, another hero of the battle of Denerim as the tales said.

Nervous, proud, awed...Mhairi slid onto one knee, head bowed.

"Rise, rise." Even Anora's _voice_ was that of a queen, kind yet authoritative...Mhairi struggled not to smile at the kindness as she got to her feet, forcing herself to ignore the fact that not only Anders had followed her example in kneeling in proper reverence. There was a slight smile on Anora's lips as she easily dropped out of her saddle and crossed the final distance, Mhairi couldn't help but note that the woman too wasn't looking directly at Lynn...not even the queen being able to look at...whatever there was to see in the Commander's eyes. "Commander Tabris, seems you once again have done the kingdom a great service."

"The castle has suffered many losses." The Commander dryly noted, the compliment apparently falling to dead ears. "All the Orlesian wardens are either dead or unaccounted for, of the soldiers in the keep we have only thirty left, there are fifty more out on patrol that will return though." Mhairi grimaced, despite her discipline. _Yes, bad numbers_..._but right now I don't think it's what you're __supposed to speak of_. _She's the queen dammit_!

"I...yes." Anora frowned slightly, but then smiled, gesturing for the great damage in the side of Lynn's ancient elven armour. "At least it seems you have a great healer...that is well."

"Yes." Lynn shrugged, shooting Anders a short nod, making it look like a great stretch of generosity. _Oh great_...

"That man!" The growl cut through the at least ambivalent atmosphere, instantly turning it hostile as a man in the distinct armour of the templars marched forth, his hair cropped short, his face worn with decades of scowling and hard grey eyes levelled on someone behind Lynn...on _Anders_. "Is _not_ a healer!"

Mhairi looked over at Anders, finding the mage paling ever so slightly under the scrutiny of the mage. It wasn't really fear in his eyes though, rather..._resignation_, as if a sudden weight had dropped onto his shoulders. There was no teasing smirk...only a surrender, as if he couldn't be bothered to to be defiant. _Heard he's escaped the tower seven times_..._no wonder he knows when to give up_. To her annoyance Mhairi felt her heart sink.

"He knows healing." Was Lynn's only reply, obvious or uncaring of what the templar really meant.

"That's not what I mean!" The man blustered, scowl deepening. "That man is an apostate! Why is he not in chains? Or in his cell!"

Anora said nothing, the woman smirking a little as she looked over at the templar, giving Mhairi the distinct impression that the queen didn't much care for the man. As for Lynn...she merely shrugged. "I let him out, that's why he's in neither cell nor chains."

"That's..." An exasperated sigh escaped the man as he moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. "...look, he's under chantry supervision and I _demand_ you hand him over this instance."

"Do you?" Lynn asked, her head slightly cocked as she observed the templar, making his scowl fade, instead he begun to look nervous. Mhairi didn't envy him, she'd been under the gaze of Lynn's long enough to know how harsh it could be on anyone...and apparently that included even templars who guarded arguably the greatest source of power in Ferelden.

Silence, the templar nervously shifting his feet.

"No, you will not have him."

"_What_!" The man took a step forward, only to instantly take a step backwards as Lynn's forehead creased in irritation. "I...you can't..." His voice faltered as he looked to Anora for support.

Anora said nothing, an eyebrow arched as she looked to Lynn.

A small shrug of the elf. "Conscription."

_You can't be_...Mhairi looked over at Anders, trying to imagine the foolish charmer of a mage as a warden...and couldn't. Neither did Anders apparently, or rather...he didn't seem to understand, looking at the discussion with a blank look on his face.

"Ah..." The queen looked back at the templar. "I'm sorry ser but...there's nothing I can do."

"You...she can't..." The templar's eyes widened as he understood, head shaking. "But he's an apostate!"

"And useful." Lynn retorted, calm.

"Wait..." Anders frowned. "...did you just..." He blinked, opened his mouth, then blinked again. "...that's...thank you." He sounded surprised, confused, not really understanding what had happened just yet. Despite her own shock at what had happened Mhairi smirked. _Heh_, _cute_.

"It is no favour, nor kindness." Lynn droned, not even glancing at their new recruit.

Anders smirked at the templar, chuckling at the miffed expression of the man...Mhairi couldn't help but shoot him a jab with her elbow, drawing another smirk out of him, the relief clear in his eyes as he shot her a short glance. _Heh, you're okay_...

Anora's hand came up to push the templar in the chest, forcing him backwards, drawing a growl from him as he glared at the still smirking Anders. "Good, with that solved we should focus on more important things." Anora focused back on Lynn. "Seventy of these men are yours, that is all I can spare..."

"I need more." Lynn said nothing more, as if that was all that was needed, making Mhairi grimace. _Doesn't she know Ferelden has a low number of soldiers already_! _One should ask politely_..._if at all_.

"Garrisons all over the place is calling for reinforcements." Anora grimaced. "I'm sorry but I can't..."

"More." Lynn repeated, not the least tactful, making Anora pull back and nearly making Mhairi groan while Oghren, who she had almost forgotten about, chuckle, making her shoot him a glare.

"I...." Anora took a minimal breath of irritation. "...our troops are busy, surely you must..."

"Some guarding places without darkspawn incursions..." Lynn interrupted, making Mhairi gasp at the breach of protocol. "...to make sure the weakened nobles doesn't rebel due to the new laws and taxes."

"I..."

"And I need more soldiers."

"I..." Anora flinched, her fingers twitching, as if she wanted to clench her fists. "...can send you some knights from Denerim, fifty, some of the best. Every single on of them a Mabari-chosen."

Was it just Mhairi...or had Lynn flinched at the last sentence? Nothing was revealed in the voice of the woman: "When can they arrive?" Mhairi grimaced. _No_ _thank_ _you_, _not_ _even_ _any_ _proper_ _civil_ _tone_..._or_ _behaviour_. _Great_...

"As soon as I can send them...there's issues with the knights being spread out and-"

"When?"

"I don't know." Anora sighed, exasperated, and Mhairi couldn't blame her. "I will do my utmost to get them over to you as soon as possible."

"I'm sure." Lynn replied, tone dry and uncaring.

Silence, the queen waiting for more, yet nothing was said by the Commander, apparently feeling things were settled and waiting for Anora to finish things.

_Maker_..._why is she so foolish_?_ The hero of Ferelden is supposed to be the queen's close aid and ally, if not friend_... Mhairi grimaced, apparently the songs sung by the bards were wrong on many points.

Finally Anora shrugged, a wide smile on her lips as she spoke clearly, her hand shooting out in an offer of a warrior-grip to Lynn. "It has been a pleasure, friend."

Lynn didn't move to meet the grip, her hands continuing to hang by her sides. "No, it isn't, and we're not friends."

Silence.

_Oh_ _Maker_...Mhairi bit her lower lip, her heart gripped by sudden panic. _This_ _is_ _not_..._Maker_!

Finally, with a small sigh, Anora's hand dropped, her shoulders raised high as she moved to block out the troops ability to see the discussion. Her smile faded, her eyes narrowed. She suddenly looked...vicious. "No...I suppose not." She cocked her head to the side, her neck cracking as she turned to leave. "Commander."

Lynn merely turned, her eyes distant as she moved to walk past her staring companions. "Your majesty." The voice held no emotions, _yet_...Mhairi shrugged.

_It feels as if I've missed something_...

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the ever present assistance._


	5. Chapter 5

Six.

Four.

Five.

Two.

Nathaniel sighed, scooping up the worn die of fading red paint and rolling it on the wooden bench that was supposed to be his bed. So far he'd found the stone floor with its bumps more comfortable to be honest, instead the bench was his table and seat, the old die the soldiers hadn't confiscated his sole source of 'entertainment' once the Seneschal had gotten bored with asking him questions Nathaniel wouldn't answer.

Another sigh escaped him, more out of frustration than boredom really. He knew the value of patience, more so then most. But to just sit there, in a dank cell, while his home was being torn apart by the vultures that had stolen it from his family and the darkspawn invaders was frustrating. By all right he should be out there, bow in hand and shooting them all down, the criminal soldiers and darkspawn alike.

_Criminals_...Nathaniel snorted, a hand coming up to brush a stubborn strand of long brown hair back behind his ear. _They_ had been the ones arresting him, calling him _intruder_, _criminal, _even_ traito_r. _They move into my home and call __me__ intruder, they kill my father and call __me__ criminal, they work for the Ferelden 'hero', allow Orlesians into our country_..._and they call __me__ traitor_!

He found his teeth clenched tightly, his fist closed around his die as he realised that simmering rage was once more threatening to burst forth. _Control, control, control_...he took a deep breath...and carefully breathed out through his nose, pushing it back down. He opened his hand, dark grey eyes looking down at the lone die in his hand, feeling an urge to throw it into a wall, to send it into a dark corner where he couldn't reach it.

He didn't though, he'd never been one to act on such impulses, he considered his options, how he would go about it, then he made a decision. It wasn't always a rational decision, but it had been considered. And throwing the die would just be foolish, accomplishing nothing, it had been a gift from a mercenary back in the Free Marches after a particular bad game for Nathaniel, an apology. Not that it had been needed, Nathaniel had learnt not to care too much whether he won or lost in such games, it was not the way of a noble, not the goal of playing the game with the troops.

In a way the die had been the real prize, after that night he'd been embraced by the mercenary band as one of their own, it had been worth the sovereigns he'd earned from months of fighting...true acceptance, not because he was a noble, but as one of the warriors.

At first he'd questioned his father's idea of sending him out into the Free Marches under the tutelage of a mercenary captain, by his nature Nathaniel wasn't a risk-taker. Yet now he understood, the fighting, hunting, living by the day...it had all elevated him beyond what he'd once been, taught him what being a noble _truly_ meant. It wasn't a fairy tale, it wasn't counting coins or debating philosophy, it was power and respect, the preparedness to do anything.

By now he looked more like a peasant then a nobleman, his worn leather armour replaced by the dirty tunic his captors had thrown him, his weathered face a testament to his life out in the sun, of a life of hardship. Yet he knew he was a noble at heart, just as anyone meeting him did, it lay in the heart, in the eyes.

_Not that it's of any importance now_.

He'd snuck into his father's castle, full of the men thinking themselves justified to take his family's lands...ready to put an arrow into the Commander of the Wardens the moment she stepped into the gate. Then...he had changed his mind, for the first time in ages. Killing the woman _wouldn't_ bring his family back, _wouldn't_ pull his family's name out of the dirt it now lay in...only make things _worse_. Nathaniel knew of justice, he also knew of logic, he'd get caught if he killed her, and then executed. He'd have some temporary satisfaction...and then his family name would be further dragged in the dirt as he was executed, the last of the Howes...ever known as a traitor and a murderer, his name deserved more then that...

So he had instead tried to find his things, something to help him remember his family...

Then they had caught him, he'd fought...but it had been a futile struggle.

_And now I'll die_. Nathaniel shrugged where he sat, carefully putting the die back onto the bench as he hung his head low. Of course they would have a trial, a sentence...but it would be a foregone conclusion. He was his father's son, and they could not allow him to live. _At least I'll face it with my head held high_..._they won't get the satisfaction of humiliating my family any more_. He smiled grimly, the decision had already been made, he was used to death from the Free Marshes...he would face his own with the same stoicism.

Of course there might _not_ be a trial, _or_ an execution, the darkspawn might have won after all. Nathaniel hadn't heard anything for some time now, no sounds of combat, no cries of dying men and creatures. His guard hadn't returned to see to him either, probably dead...maybe that was it? Maybe the defenders were all dead and the darkspawn had gone on, leaving him to starve to death? He doubted that though, one of them had entered the prison after all, a genlock.

He'd only seen them in drawings, heard of them in the Free Marches, that there were raiding bands all over the place...yet until a few hours ago he'd never actually _seen_ one. It had been far more vicious then he'd imagined, the short creature raking the bars between them with its daggers, stabbing through them, trying to reach him with animalistic rage. Then it had left...and Nathaniel could only stare after it with his head cocked, wondering if it would try and get some of its friends, or perhaps a bow to shoot him with...

It hadn't though, there was only silence.

So Nathaniel waited. Darkspawn or traitors, he didn't care which killed him. _Delilah_..._I'm_ _sorry_. He bit his lower lip, irritated with himself for thinking of his little sister, she was surely dead by now. He'd only heard of his father, killed by their 'great hero', and his brother Thomas, slain by Ferelden knights as he tried to defend his family's lands. His sister was most likely killed too though, and _that_ hurt, she would never have hurt _anyone_, she'd never _cared_ for politics...it wasn't _right_, _none_ of it was.

_Then again, right has never played a part in life_. Nathaniel sombrely noted, ear twitching as he heard the sound of the door ahead creaking open, of armoured feet marching into the room. _Four pairs, one without armour_..._one lighter then the others. Two guards, the judge perhaps_..._but the lighter one wears armour too_..._a woman? But the Seneschal is male_...

"I heard you came to kill me." The voice was unmistakable female, as it was harsh, dead and uncaring.

_Ah, it's __her_... Nathaniel took a calming breath pushing the simmering rage back down, he would not give her the satisfaction of showing his now impotent anger. "I did."

"Why?" No anger, no accusation, not even real curiosity, a question asked because it was supposed to be asked. _Interesting_...

"Why?" Nathaniel echoed the woman's question and slowly stood up, raising his head.

The four were an odd group. A dwarf in full armour and a bristling red beard, a huge axe hanging over his shoulder as he regarded Nathaniel with an almost amused look. A brunette woman in heavy plate mail, her eyes narrowed in that self-righteous anger Nathaniel had come to expect out of patriots. A blonde man in mage robes, eyeing Nathaniel with the sympathy of someone who knew the pain of being behind bars. All three were unimportant though...only the one in the front was the one to watch.

Nathaniel had known the 'hero' to be an elf woman, yet it seemed almost an insult to think that the tiny woman before him was the killer of his father, the initiator of his entire family's death, of the death-knell of its reputation and the one who had stolen his father's place in saving the country. Nathaniel quickly shoved such thoughts aside though, he knew far too well not to judge anything by its cover. And even if he hadn't...the woman before him was all the more imposing by virtue of her smallness.

Nathaniel had seen a small dog in the streets, near death, feral...it had been cornered by a far larger dog...and then ripped its foe's throat out even as it itself was torn to shreds...the woman seemed the same breed, small and feral.

The golden armour of hers was tarnished, a great rift in its side from some great blow, the weapons strapped to her hips glowing with the power of enchantments...yet all that was nothing compared to _her_. Her gaunt face was pale, marked by suffering and hardship, the face of someone near death, yet refusing to bend under the strain. And the _eyes_....

Nathaniel felt a shudder of disgust and fear run through his spine, he clenched his firsts, burying his fingernails into his palms until it bled, drawing focus from the pain. _I will __not__ look away_. His father's murderer's eyes were large and amber...had sunk deep into her pale face...and were utterly dead. There was intelligence in them, yes, consciousness...but they weren't human, nor elven...they were unreal, _revolting_. Nathaniel had expected her to be just that, revolting, but not in _that_ way...he narrowed his eyes at hers, glaring at her. "Because you killed my father."

"I have killed many." The woman replied, a statement of fact as she cocked her head to the side, studying him as if he was nothing but a bug passing interest.

_She doesn't even know_.... Nathaniel gritted his teeth, barely holding his rage in check as he slowly advanced towards the bars that separated the two, she didn't move back. Considering those dead eyes burying themselves into his Nathaniel wasn't surprised. "I am Nathaniel Howe." The others gasped, yet Lynn Tabris, the 'hero' didn't react. "Son of Rendon Howe, brother of Thomas and Delilah Howe, the last of my family." He stepped closer to the bars, glaring down at the elf. "You took my family, its lands, its honour...I wanted justice."

"Justice brings no happiness." Lynn replied, it wasn't an argument though, it was a fact as much as a question, a challenge.

"Perhaps not, but it is needed." Nathaniel snorted, wanting to spit the elf in the face. He was certainly close enough for such a sign of defiance...but what was the point? He would not stoop to such a level. "I was going to shoot you as you entered the gates, a single arrow...and then I would have left."

"Entered the gates?" Lynn repeated, frowning ever so slightly. "They arrested you in the keep itself."

"Yes..." Nathaniel couldn't bear it any longer, he'd made his point, he looked away, irritated that he drew a sigh of relief when no longer meeting her eyes. "..I realised it wouldn't make any difference, my family already lies dead, and killing the so-called hero of Ferelden would only further besmirch my family name. What was the point?" He shrugged, not really sure he was telling her this, obviously not to garner any sympathy, the woman's reputation was _anything_ but about sympathy...and he wouldn't want it even _if_ he could get it from her. No...perhaps it was simply the wish to say it all? For his own benefit, for some peace of mind? _No matter_..._it is done_. "I went to get some things, things associated with my family, useless baubles to most...but important to me...a fool notion perhaps." He chuckled, _that_ much was obvious by now, the bars between them told him that much.

"Not at all." No taunts, no sympathy, nothing.

_Huh_?

Silence.

Nathaniel glanced at the elf, seeing her look back...emotionless...it was almost worse then a taunt, the utter uncaring shown for him....he was just an insect to her.

She spoke again, gaze even. "How did you get in?"

A mirthless chuckle escaped Howe. _Ah, so she's holding the execution until all information is gathered_..._I would have done the same_. The chuckle died at the disgusting thought, making him glare at her. _We_ _are_ _nothing_ _alike_..._murderer_. "This is _my_ castle, I know it by heart."

"We had many guards, even with secret paths you shouldn't have been able to get in." _Was that an accusation_?_ What is she getting at_? "Magic?"

_Ah_. "No magic." Nathaniel shrugged, a pale smile forcing itself to his lips as he thought back, to all the times he'd snuck around in the Free marshes, hunting equally skilled trackers of his mercenary band, playing a deadly game of cat-and-mouse that he'd become a master at. "I'm good."

"I have fought dragons, how could you think yourself able to kill me with a single arrow?"

_Such odd questions_...Nathaniel frowned. _Is this her attempt at taunting me_? "I told you, I'm good." Nathaniel shrugged. "I've killed _knights_ with a single shot dozens of times, and you are mortal are you not?"

"I am." The woman answered, as if the question needed answering.

Nathaniel grit his teeth, head snapping round to glare into those dead eyes once more as he hissed: "Then I can kill you. Damn reputation, damn strength, damn magic... damn the Maker himself! If you're mortal I can kill you!"

Silence, the woman observing him, her unnatural eyes weighing him, making him sweat, despite the anger sustaining him.

Then she finally spoke: "Good."

"Good?" Nathaniel echoed, frowning in confusion. _What is she_..._that makes no sense_.

"Nathaniel Howe." The woman's voice was still uncaring, but had a hint of solemness in it all of a sudden. "You're hereby conscripted into the grey wardens." Gasps, from both Nathaniel and the woman's companions, all taking a step back as they stared at the woman so calmly looking at him. "You will take your joining with the others."

_Conscripted_? Nathaniel blinked. Of all the things...he hadn't expected _that_. Execution, life imprisonment, torture...but not _that_. _Conscripted_! He narrowed his eyes at the woman, glaring at her. "No! I will _not_ become like you! I refuse to have anything in common with the likes of you! Even if it saves me!" _I would survive, but_..._no_..._my_ _mind_ _is_ _set_.

"You have no choice." A statement, fact, the dead eyes boring into him, blowing aside his resolve as if it had been nothing but a house of cards.

"I..." He looked away, cursing himself for his weakness. _No, I can't fail my family_..._to join her would be accepting that she was right, that my family name is worth nothing_. _Then again_..._I__ know otherwise_..._and if she recruits me_.... "...you can't keep me, you won't stop me. Once I'm recruited I'll leave, I'll sneak away the first opportunity I get. I'm telling you this because _some_ of us knows what honour is."

Silence, the woman no doubt re-thinking her decision.

Nathaniel closed his eyes, sighing. _Honour will kill me_...a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. _There's worse ways to go_...

"No." He couldn't help it, he looked back at the warden, at his father's murderer, and found the dead eyes boring into him, the woman stepping close to the bars, stating _fact_. "No you won't." Nathaniel felt his eyes widen, something in her voice...filling him with dread. "I promise you that."

Nathaniel Howe shuddered.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the continued support and criticism. ;-)_


	6. Chapter 6

The throne room.

The heart of Vigil's Keep.

The heart of his home, now usurped.

Nathaniel kept his expression carefully neutral as he looked around himself. The room was smaller then he remembered, no doubt due to the years he'd spent abroad, but it was still the same...still his home. They had removed the old paintings of his family through the ages, as if the Howe dynasty had never existed, and replaced them with banners of the wardens, their white Griffon seemingly glowing against dull grey rugs of cloth... A clear sign of ownership, and another blow to Nathaniel's family, a kick aimed at someone who already lay bleeding in the gutter.

Nathaniel ignored it though, that wasn't what the room was about. The throne was still there at the furthest end of the large room, a simple thing of wood whose backrest still arched out on each end with the clear depiction of a roaring bear, the Amaranthine heraldry, _his_ heraldry. Mostly Nathaniel remembered sitting in father's lap atop it though, playing with the buttons of the man's shirt as he tried to teach his all too young sons on how to deal with the local nobles.

The open fire in the middle of the room, kept in control by a ring of solid stone, threw the many wooden pillars at each side of the hall in sharp relief. The wood was a reddish brown, making the light from the fire more reddish then it should be, darkening the shadows the pillars cast even further. Nathaniel remembered hiding in those shadows, pouncing on his little sister when she least expected it, making her squeal in either fright or delight, depending on if they had been playing a game or not. He remembered his father scolding him when he tried to add to the carvings in the beams, to make his own decorations. He'd been so scared...yet by now he could remember such things with fondness, it _had_ been foolish to ruin the craftsmanship with his little pocket knife...and his father had been scolding him with a small smile now that Nathaniel remembered back.

There was a large window just above him, the sun beaming through it, illuminating his father's murderer in her golden armour, making her glow as she stood before them, a large silver chalice in her hands. Did she know his brother had taught him to measure the time by where that beam lay? That Thomas whose death she was ultimately responsible for had grinningly told him how he always looked forward to the 'far right' time, when their father would let them go to play? Probably not..._and by now it's only middle-time after all, I was always bored by that time_. Nathaniel almost smiled at that thought, _almost_.

The throne room did nothing but remind him of old memories, of things that would never again be real.

_And it's her fault_. Nathaniel glared at the Commander, not at all surprised when she ignored him, his anger useless against the woman who might as well have been made out of stone.

A small cough thankfully drew Nathaniel's attention to the others in the room, away from his pain.

There were no guards, not anyone in the room save their 'Commander' and the other three 'hopefuls'. _Becoming a Grey Warden_..._what_ _a_ _foolish_ _thing_. _But if that gives me an opportunity to slip away and try to salvage my family name_..._so be it_. _I'm sure the queen would welcome the opportunity to show magnanimity to an old enemy and use me as an ally against some of the grumbling nobles I've heard of_..._as good a plan as any_.

Nathaniel had of course come to understand that the joining could prove fatal, but that was nothing to think about. Either he died now, which would mean that he had nothing to worry about since he had not too long ago already been prepared for that...or he would live and then have an opportunity to continue his plans. _Either way the joining is transitory_.

The man left to him, a man that apparently thought himself as 'funny' and who had introduced himself as Anders...didn't seem to see it that way though, he was watching the large chalice in the elf's hands as if it contained his doom. The young man was pale, yet smirking a little, probably trying to come up with jokes in order to distract himself from thinking of the near future. Nathaniel sighed inwardly, remembering his grandfather, a great warden, Nathaniel's childhood hero...to think that the nervous man next to him would become the same was a joke.

_As is the idea of the woman before us being a warden, guess the wardens have truly lowered their standards_...he shot Lynn another glare as the elf begun to move around the fire between them and her, chalice held in both hands before her, her face unreadable.

Further to the left that sourly dwarf stood. To think that red haired man who even now stank of alcohol was the Oghren the songs Nathaniel heard in the taverns was speaking of was hard to fathom. Not perhaps his great destructive power in battle, the sizeable battle axe over his back was clearly not ornamental, but there was nothing 'noble' about him._ Then again, what does one expect from warden propaganda_? At least the dwarf didn't seem all that scared about the prospect of death at the joining, he looked rather bored actually, as if risking death was part of his daily routine. _Maybe it is_? _Good_..._at least the wardens will have __some__ good blood in it_. Nathaniel shot Lynn a new glare at the thought.

Furthest to the left the patriot stood, _ser_ Mhairi as she had introduced herself...a knight of Denerim and a patriot as far as their short conversation had told him, as Nathaniel had expected. Of all of them she was the only one looking eager, a light in her eyes as she watched the chalice come closer, her tongue darting out to lick her lips in anticipation. Nathaniel nearly shook his head. Obviously she desired to be a 'hero'..._such naivety, heroism doesn't come with a sip of blood_.

He had considered running when he noticed that there were only the five of them. Of course the others were armed...but Nathaniel felt confident that he in his loose tunic he could outrun them. But that plan had easily been pushed aside. Where was he to run? There were no doubt guards just outside the doors behind him, all over the castle for that matter. No, it was far better to drink the damn blood, become a warden and then leave the moment he got the chance...they wouldn't keep him locked into the castle once he was a warden after all.

It was a sound plan. Yet...

_Yet_...Nathaniel nearly grimaced, watching Lynn come up to stand before them, the woman's gaze lowered to the content in the chalice, silent, as if in prayer. _She said I wouldn't want to leave once I joined_..._and I nearly __believed__ her_..._why_?_ The change wrought by the darkspawn blood can't be complete loyalty can it? no_..._I doubt that_..._yet she seemed so_..._certain_...the thought of it was enough to make him shudder.

"Join us brothers and sisters." Nathaniel nearly flinched at the words, him and the other 'recruits' staring at the elf before them as she muttered the words, eyes still downcast. There was a different tone then before in her voice, not uncaring and cold, it was solemn, almost...soft.

_Eerie_...Nathaniel shuddered as the elf looked up, directly at him, or rather, _through_ him, gaze distant. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant." _Is it just me_..._or_ _did_ _the_ _room_ _get_ _colder_?

She looked over at Anders, the mage visibly shaking as the distant gaze looked through him. "Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn."

_An oath_?_ The drinking of the blood is an oath_? _No_..._that_ _isn't_ _it_... Nathaniel swallowed, something with that sentence..._bothering_ him, it seemed to imply something he at the moment couldn't grasp. His trained scouting senses tingled, warning him of a trap, yet he was unsure what the trap _was_, it didn't seem to be entirely physical...

"And should you perish..." Her gaze moved over to Oghren, slowly, her gaze becoming more present, meeting his eyes...and making the dwarf look away with an odd look in his face.

"...know that that your sacrifice will not be forgotten." Lynn's eyes became distant once more as she looked over at Mhairi, the knight looking back into those distant eyes. Shoulders straight, proud...yet looking a bit confused by the Commander that didn't seem all that concentrated upon the moment, lost in thoughts as she automatically performed the ceremony.

_It __is__ cold_...Nathaniel shuddered, wondering what strange magic was at work even as he watched the elf look down into the chalice again, at the dark pool of blood within it, at her reflection.

Her voice was but a whisper. "And that one day...we shall join you."

Nathaniel swallowed, the Commander's voice was so _different_...he actually found himself longing for the uncaring viciousness it had had before.

"Mhairi, step forward." The Commander's soft words didn't need to be repeated, the knight eagerly stepping forth, hands held out to grasp the offered chalice.

She just stood there, holding the chalice, staring at its content with equal dread and eagerness...then shot Lynn a look, the Commander nodding...before moving the silver chalice to her lips.

A small sip...and the knight handed the chalice back to her Commander, the woman grimacing at the taste of the blood she had just drank.

Then she shuddered, blinked, a look of confusion in her eyes as she visibly wavered where she stood. Her eyes rolled back, exposing only whites...and then she fell backwards, loudly crashing into the floor. Maker...Nathaniel swallowed, staring at the now unconscious woman. "She lives." Lynn stated the obvious, considering the woman was visibly breathing, yet it elicited a gasp of relief from Anders, making Nathaniel shake his head. _Mages_..._they don't know anything but their little field_.

"Oghren, step forward."

The dwarf moved with far less enthusiasm, still looking bored. Yet when he took the chalice from his Commander's hands he managed a meaningful grin at her. His voice an amused growl. "Bottom's up eh?" With that he pushed the chalice upwards, chugging down a good sized amount of the blood as if it was nothing but water. "Ah..." He smacked his lips in obviously feigned appreciation as he lowered the chalice and handed it over to Lynn, his grin widening. "And here I thought you were special with yo-"

The grin faded, the dwarf cocking his head to the side, frowning as a hand darted down to his stomach, his other scratching his chin in confusion. Before him Nathaniel saw Lynn look away, the elf's eyes distant. "I'm sorry Oghren..." The words didn't sound sorry, just solemn, ritualistic rather then emotional._ I thought they knew one another_... 

Nathaniel's thought was interrupted by a sudden shudder as Oghren doubled over, mouth opening wide as a gasping sound escaped him. Both Anders and Nathaniel took a step away as they stared at the dwarf, a dwarf now clutching his throat with both hands, as if unable to breathe. Oghren took a stumbling step backwards, his gauntleted hands digging so deep into his throat that it drew blood as his wide eyes became dark with blood. A swollen black tongue rolled out of his open mouth, limp and dead as he stumbled forward, his hands tearing a good sized chunk of flesh out of his throat as he vainly tried to remove the source of the pain...

Then he fell forward, crashing into the floor, blood already pooling around the torn throat...he shuddered a final time, a pained gasp escaping him...before becoming still.

Barely had he stopped moving before the words came: "Step forward Anders."

Nathaniel looked over at Lynn in surprise, having at least expected her to order the body removed before continuing the ceremony, but in the now hard and focused eyes focused on the mage there was no inclination of such a thing, nor any grief over the man the tales sung of him as one of her close friends. _Apparently they got that part wrong_...the cold eyes said nothing..._I_ _hope_.

"Uh..." Anders took a small step forward, hands raised in protest. "Perhaps we should...you know...switch chalice first? Just a suggestion...seeing as he just keeled over drinking from it..."

Lynn advanced after the mage, eyes narrowing, her left hand holding the chalice as her right reached back towards her hip, towards her sword. "Step forward Anders." The order was clear now, leaving no room for protest.

Not only Nathaniel noticed the woman's movement, Anders eyes widening as the mage saw the hand closing around the grip of the sword. He licked his lips, gaze darting between her weapon and the chalice, judging his chances with both and apparently not liking either. "Right...as you say..." he grimaced as he reached out, gripping the chalice as he muttered: "Maker knows I've already been accused of blood magic..."

The chalice visibly shook as the mage's trembling hands moved it up towards his lips, the mage's eyes darting between the dark liquid and the prone dwarf that moments ago had died such a painful death by drinking the liquid he was about to ingest. Nathaniel didn't envy the man, he too didn't like the idea of drinking something that could kill you like that. But it was easy to reason it aside, Lynn wouldn't offer the mage the blood if she didn't think he had a chance of surviving, there would be no point...so logically there was no added risk because the one before had been poisoned.

_Then again logic doesn't really help for most_. Nathaniel sombrely noted as he watched the mage nearly drop the chalice as he pushed it against his lower lip and slowly inclined it. He stopped there, but Lynn's level gaze broke no argument...with a shaky breath Anders inclined the chalice enough to take a miniscule sip.

Lynn took the chalice from the man's hands, since the mage had frozen still, his body like a statue as he stared down at himself, at his chest, as if waiting for some monster to push out from it at any moment.

Nothing happened though, making Anders smile in visible relief. "Huh? Well that's a..." He blinked, a look of horror in his eyes when he opened them again. "...a...?"

Nathaniel shot Lynn a glance but saw that she didn't seem the least worried about the mage's chances. _Then again she doesn't care whether he lives or dies_..._the bitch_.

Anders shook his head, a hand coming up to push against his temple, as if trying to shake a headache...before he went rigid, eyes rolling back, exposing the whites and making Nathaniel remember to breathe as he realised the man would live.

With a thud the mage fell to the floor, twitching even as he lay unconscious.

_Wonder what is happening to him_...Nathaniel watched the mage twitch, as if dreaming, even as he heard Lynn's solemn voice once more call out: "Nathaniel, step forward."

_This is it then_..._the moment of truth, live or die, this is my ticket out of this_. Nathaniel looked back at Lynn, glaring at her even as he tried to ignore her promise. _I will __not__ stay with the wardens, her promise means nothing_...

Lynn didn't seem fazed by his glare, neither thinking about the same thing. Her eyes were easier to meet at the moment, distant as they were, seemingly off in memories if Nathaniel didn't know better. _Yet if I tried running or taking her weapons I'm sure she would be upon me in a moment_...Nathaniel took the chalice, knowing there was no other option, that he had no choice but to continue with his plan. _I will not stay, I will __not_.

Nathaniel swallowed despite his resolve. The silver was cold to the touch, despite its content. Despite the fire and sun...the room was cold. _Everything_ was cold...and _unnatural_, making him shiver as he stood there, the chalice inching towards his lips. _I will not stay, unnatural powers and maker knows what notwithstanding, I will __not_.

He glared at the elf, a last sign of defiance before...whatever awaited him. Her eyes became focused as she looked at him, not lost in memories but present, present and..._sad_! Without thinking of it Nathaniel took a sip.

A whisper.

It tasted bitter. Grimacing Nathaniel glanced down at the nearly empty chalice as he handed it over to Lynn, when he looked up he found her eyes hard and uncaring again, making him look away, his mind reeling too much to focus on meeting those dangerous eyes at the moment.

There was something...whispering...?

He found himself taking a step back, gagging as the bitter taste turned into coldness, frost, biting into his throat, burning him. The cold fire seemed to grow, gripping not only his throat but also his lungs, making it hard to breath as he felt a dark weight wiggle within his stomach, as if a snake had suddenly come alive within him.

Yet the pain was nothing compared to the...whispering...song? He frowned, confused, trying to comprehend where it came from...yet all he could think of was himself... _It's not_..._making_ _sense_.

Then he shuddered, his body going rigid as he found the world fade away, darkness gripping his vision, a _moving_ darkness.

Whispering...

8

8

8

Nathaniel gasped, clutching his chest as he found himself on his knees, naked legs resting on barren ground covered in sharp rocks, making him wince as they drew blood. Yet no sound came, his mouth moved to speak...and nothing was said.

Shaking his head he looked further down, realising that he was completely naked, naked and pale...as if he'd been drained of blood, sick...dead?

Yet he couldn't picture himself dead, it all seemed too...real. The ground felt hard and unyielding, the chest he was holding felt real, if oddly cold...he was _there_...yet _not_.

And the whisper was now clearly there, not any words, no true meaning, just a whisper, a call...from behind him.

Nathaniel felt an odd urge to heed it, to move towards it...but he pushed it aside, too confused to trust his instincts. There was something..._wrong_...not just him being naked...but there was a strange pain centred around his chest, at his heart. Not physical, not like that of his bleeding legs...but still there, and very real.

Another gasp and he got to his feet, eyes narrowing as he looked up...only to widen in shock.

The sky above him was black and lifeless save that of green clouds that coiled around one another like snakes, poisonous and lethal...promising a rain that made Nathaniel shudder in unreal fear. Yet that was nothing compared to the vast desert of brown dirt and rocks around him, surrounding him as far as the eye could see...and before him...

There were people in front of him, only a couple of dozen feet away...but their numbers stretching far beyond the horizon. Marching in a single column they were all as naked as him, men and women, elderly and children, humans, dwarves and elves...as one they moved in a slow slouched march, their torn feet covered in their blood.

None of them met his gaze, they _couldn't_, bloody craters where their eyes were supposed to be, blindly staring ahead, untroubled by the tears of blood running down their faces as they continued to their endless marsh.

Nathaniel took a step back, his horror echoing across the desert as much as within himself. The people slain in the blights...it had to be, Nathaniel realised it without thinking it, it was just...there, the reality...and it terrified him.

Then he looked back, his head moving on its own volition...and screamed.

The darkspawn were waiting, a mere dozen feet away a sea of darkspawn stood, their sharp fangs bared in gleeful grins as they stood there with lowered weapons still dripping with blood. A paste of flesh, guts and blood covered the ground they stood on, the remains of another column of dead...torn asunder by the darkspawn, their very souls slaughtered like cattle.

And from the darkspawn it came, the whisper, soothing, a siren call...that the all but Nathaniel blindly heeded.

No...

Nathaniel took a step away from the wall of darkspawn and looked backwards, seeing the endless line of dead people, calmly marching towards the darkspawn, towards their end...and he knew horror.

_No_!

He was suddenly moving, moving towards the line of marching dead, hands held out to stop them.

The one at the head of the line was an elf, a short man with auburn hair streaked with dirt and filth, his left ear cleaved off along with part of his jaw even as the craters that were his eyes looked straight through Nathaniel.

Yet despite the short stature of the elf Nathaniel found himself bouncing off him as he crashed into the man, sending Nathaniel tumbling into the dirt, sharp rocks boring themselves into his flesh, drawing blood.

The pain of his wounds was nothing compared to the _knowledge_ though...his eyes were wide as he stared at the endless column of people marching towards the dark sea that was the darkspawn...the horrible knowledge that he _couldn't_ stop what was about to happen.

He could only watch.

Watch as the column inexorably moved towards the waiting darkspawn, watch as the darkness waited, ready to tear the people, and their souls, asunder, watch as the first of the column moved into the sea of darkspawn...

Watch as people, unable to see, unable to care, were torn asunder by the darkness right ahead of them.

There was nothing to do but to watch...and to weep.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for continuing her toil._


	7. Chapter 7

She was using his father's office.

_Of course she is_...Nathaniel grit his teeth as he stood outside the all too familiar door, forcing back the indignant anger, the illogical idea that it was somehow an insult aimed at him.

The obvious reason for using the room was its size, its central location and the easy access from it to the throne room, it was the reason his father had made the room his office, and no doubt the reason for Lynn doing the same. It was _logical_, the room had been made with that function in mind. _Yet_...Nathaniel took a deep breath, glaring at the wooden door, all too familiar with the pattern in its grains.

He had awoken four hours ago, nearly jumping out of the bed he'd been dropped into, the sheets clinging to his sweaty body, his body still shaking with a terror he hadn't known even during his first battle...something beyond the real, something gripping his innermost being.

It had taken him two hours just to stop the shaking, unable to think about anything else he had just sat there, shivering...thinking back to the dream, trying to comprehend it. There hadn't been much to comprehend though, he had understood it perfectly, and the idea of all those people, endless in numbers...to just fall into darkness, body and souls ripped asunder, never to know peace...and him unable to do anything about it...it spoke volumes.

Of course, he _could_ do something, he _knew_ he could...and _that_ realisation had been what he had struggled with...the knowledge that there was a path to stop such a horrible atrocity to continue, that the source of it could be killed, culled, keeping all those sightless people safe. He _knew_ the path, knew the way to stop it, the only solution, the only way for him to be able to look himself in the mirror after having experienced such a dream, as Lynn had _known_ he would...

_It's a bitter thing_..._knowledge_.

Nathaniel sighed, shoulders dropping as he looked down at his chest, his worn leather armour fitting him like a glove by now. He hadn't seen it, nor the _other_ things, arrayed on the table next to him...not for the two hours he had just sat there, thinking, coming to a decision. If the Commander had intended them as a bribe she had failed, he had come to his decision on his own...not influenced by the gifts awaiting him.

_Of course she didn't intend them as such_. Nathaniel grimaced, the bitterness within him swelling. _She had already known_..._so why give them to me_? _She doesn't seem to be one desiring friendship_...He snorted at the idea, as much as the idea of the ice queen being a friend to _anyone_ as the idea of _him_ actually being her friend. He wasn't going to kill her, his family name deserved better then that...but he wasn't going to forget either. _Father_...

It had all lay there, on a table, waiting for him when he came to. His leather armour, neatly folded and with the dust and grime from his travels cleaned off. His grandfather's bow was also there, still marked with the Howe seal, a thing Nathaniel was sure had been destroyed by his father, a man not caring much for Nathaniel's hero and his warden business. Nathaniel had spent an hour lovingly cleaning it, re-stringing it, ensuring its integrity...despite the bitterness of his recent decision it had made him smile.

Then he had turned his attention on what was left on the table.

The vase that had been the favourite of his long since dead mother, his brother's old whetstone...they had lain there, in front of him...and Nathaniel had found himself swallowing as old memories had resurfaced. Then he had found a pile of old letters, his sister's letters...and he had read them...every single word...page by page...there had been so many it had taken an hour to read them. Some were confiding, some sad, some happy, that of a young woman...happy and living a life full with the normal troubles and enjoyments of life...and Nathaniel had cried.

Cried for his sister, for his brother, for his father, even the long dead mother that had nothing to do with the recent pains. It had all poured out of him when confronted with all those tangible things and memories...it had been right in front of him, real, something he could touch, something he could _feel_...and it had _hurt_.

But such things always came to an end, pain was transitory after all...and Nathaniel had finally put them aside, let his grief retreat, unable to express it any further for the day...worn down.

His decision hadn't changed, if anything it had only strengthened his resolve. How could he run away? Leave for some royal power that would keep him as a tool to use against fellow nobles when he knew what awaited in the darkness? How could he work to deprive others of family members when he by all right should keep more people from suffering the same fate he had? He could not stand by and do nothing as more were sacrificed to the darkness waiting in the distance...

So what choice did he have? Leave and despise himself forever? Constantly hounded by dreams that would remind him of his weakness and inability do help? Or would he _do_ something? Would he _fight_?

The answer was painfully obvious. Nathaniel had never surrendered, his time in the Free Marches had taught him that not fighting for yourself meant you condemned yourself to poverty and sickness, in more then the material sense. No...he would fight, and there was only one power he knew of that stood against the darkspawn...

_I hate her_. Nathaniel growled as he raised a hand to knock on the door. _But then again I've worked for many that I've despised, I can do it again_..._but I will never forget, or forgive_.

He knocked.

Instantly a far too familiar voice called out from behind the door: "Come in."

The room wasn't as he remembered it, yet it was...Nathaniel frowned in confusion even as he looked over to the Commander. The room was large and rectangular in shape, Nathaniel having entered in the middle of the long end had to look far to the left to locate Lynn.

There things was as he remembered them, the office his father had worked in to the long hours of the night. Lynn was sitting behind a large oaken desk, the ends of it covered in neat piles of scrolls and its centre covered by a large map held in place by a glass inkwell and three smooth white stones. Covering the wall behind her and halfway down the long walls on each side of the office there was bookshelves, a dozen in numbers, scrolls laying in neat rows in each of them, many atop one another. _More scrolls than my father had, guess it's Amaranthine papers plus grey warden papers I suppose_...

That part of the room breathed business like the office had done before, a near copy of his father's room. Even the scene before him, with a tunic-clad Lynn standing bent over the map, flanked by the grey-haired Seneschal and an even older woman dressed in a simple dress and with a tight-lipped expression on her face was like that of a memory. Replace the small elf with his father and it had been virtually the same as before...

Even as he watched Lynn raised a hand to tell him to wait, oddly reminiscent of how his father had gestured him to silence when talking to his knights, he too hadn't even looked at Nathaniel as he finished his work... "I don't care for one missing warden, if he can get back he will. What bothers me is the lack of troops. We need more men."

"The lords can supply more men, and we can recruit more, there are some farmers we can recruit I'm sure." The seneschal suggested, grimacing. "But the lord will only do this after they have sworn their allegiance to you, and even then it will be troublesome for some."

Lynn shot the seneschal a glance. "Why?"

"Because there is no money." The woman who so far had been silent said, scowling at the seneschal. "The trade is disrupted, the lords are earning nothing from their tolls, and we ourselves can train more farmers but not equip them due to our own funds being minimal."

The sceneschal cleared his throat and scowled back at the woman, clearly disagreeing on some part of her argument. "True, but the fact is that even with money to pay for men many lords won't send you men without some sort of exchange, the oath of vassalage goes both ways and we have precious little to offer."

"Because of the-"

"Because not only do we have bad economy..." The seneschal shot the old woman a glare, stopping her explanation as he continued: "...but also due to a distrust of wardens in general, a change of lordship..." He shot Nathaniel a uncomfortable look that the Howe pointedly ignored. "...is difficult even _without_ it being to an organisation that instantly sends _Orlesians_ into the land...not to mention that you yourself are...well that is...ah..." The man cleaered his throat, shifting where he stood as he got worried about saying the obvious.

"An elf." Lynn filled in, as cold as uncaring as ever, even in the face of such racism endangering her work. "When can the lords assemble?"

Shaking his head Howe let the seneschal's answer become nothing more then a distant buzz as he focused on the other end of the room, on the strangest thing he'd ever seen in something that was supposed to be an _office_...

Furthest in the corner there was a cot, barely large enough for even someone of Lynn's stature to sleep in, far removed from the bed a lord was supposed to have, heck, worse then the beds the _servants_ slept in! Was that really her bed? Or just a cot she used after the odd night of working late? The armour stand at the foot of the cot, now covered in the golden armour the woman usually wore, spoke of the former, as did the small dresser next to it, one of the shelves slightly open, revealing a few sets of tunics.

It was just a corner of the room, small and insignificant...and it was where she slept. _I nearly had better living quarters back in camp in the Free Marches_...

The rest of the right side of the room was not part of her office, nor _her_ space really...it made Nathaniel shudder for some reason.

Closest to the cot there was a small pedestal of grey stone, a single red rose in a waterless crystal glass resting atop the pedestal. Yet despite the lack of water...the rose nearly glowed red, its colour full and lush.

Next to the pedestal there was another stand for a suit of armour, yet _that_ _one_ was hardly anything Lynn would wear. It was massive in size, made for a man that would dwarf not only Lynn but even Nathaniel, it shone in the dim light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling, the plates polished to a silver finish. The arms of it were reaching out ever so slightly, resting atop the pommel of a slightly curved blade covered in runes...the tip resting on the floor, as if the armour was really a guard ready to fight at a moment's notice. Most of the blade was hidden though, hidden behind a large shield of steel whose front was emblazoned with the redcliffe heraldry.

_It's_..._his_ _armour_. Nathaniel found himself swallowing. Despite not really buying the tales sung by the bards of the heroics of the wardens, all that propaganda...he was not so foolish to think that they had made up the tale of how the new king had sacrificed himself to kill the archdemon. Though until now he had imagined the tale of the towering silver king was _exaggerated_...but the massive suit of armour before him told another tale. _Why is she keeping it_? _Just_ _for_ _display_? _It_ _doesn't_ _seem_..._like_ _her_.

Nathaniel looked up at the helmet atop the rest of the armour, the blue plume atop it still, resting atop a shining silver shell, the darkness behind the closed visor seemingly glaring at him. It was...a frightening thing, even when not animated by a wearer...and Nathaniel found himself look away, as if the armour had somehow found him wanting. _How can she sleep with that thing nearby_...?

On the other side of the armour, closer to Nathaniel, there was another pedestal, this too of grey stone. But instead of a rose there was a figurine of dark wood atop it, looking so lifelike that Nathaniel at first thought it was a living snake resting on the pedestal. But no...it wasn't moving, despite looking like it whenever he moved his head. He shuddered at the sight, there was no mistaking the archdemon, he had heard of it all too well, seen the drawings some painters had already made...and this one was far more terrifying then any of them, it had to be nothing but a complete likeness..

Compared to it the small figure on its knees atop its chest was tiny...yet Nathaniel found his gaze drawn to it...and frowned. It _wasn't _the massive suit of armour next to the figurine resting atop the chest of the bowled over dragon, it _wasn't_ the hero king, it was Lynn...her armour and body unmistakable. And though the look of serenity on the figure's tiny face didn't fit the woman...it was definitively the Commander that was driving her sword into the chest of the archdemon. _She's not so arrogant to think she killed it_..._is_ _she_? _No_... Nathaniel grimaced, there was no air of arrogance over any of this...only a lingering _sadness_...making him uneasy.

Then, closest to him, a simple rack for weapons that were usually kept in the armoury. At the bottom a collar a mabari would wear. Then there was a pair of seizable daggers, still glittering with enchantments. Then an elegant-looking bow of dark wood, one end of it stained with old blood that had dried into the wood. And then...a large axe, an axe Nathaniel had seen a few hours ago, seen on a now dead dwarf...

_A shrine_... Nathaniel swallowed at the realisation, widening eyes taking in the many items laying on display next to the minimal cot Lynn had reserved for herself. _Memorials_..._memories_..._pains_? Nathaniel shuddered and shook his head, memories of crying over his sister's letters all too fresh in his mind. _No, I will not understand her, I will not feel sympathy, she deserves whatever pain these things represent_. He glanced at the armour again, finding the dark slits of its visor glaring at him...and looked away. _She does_...

"Then I will go to the Wending Woods and resolve that." All too eager to distract himself Nathaniel tore his gaze away from the minimal living area next to the imposing shrine and focused back on the Commander as she pointed down at the map. "Seneschal Varel, I want the men thoroughly trained and whatever entrance the darkspawn used to enter the castle found, clear?"

"Yes Commander." The seneschal bowed his head with a grimace, apparently having lost whatever argument they had had; the impression all the more clear by the pleased expression of the old woman opposite him.

"Mistress Woolsey." The elf turned to the old woman, ruining the pleased expression by merely looking at the woman. "You will see to that taxes are raised properly and in all areas of the land, is that clear?"

Looking away the woman nodded, grimacing. "It would be hard but...yes...don't come to me if the peasants complain though."

"I will not." Lynn nodded and finally turned her attention to Nathaniel, her eyes boring into him...and he could do nothing but look away. "Yes?"

He licked his lips, suddenly feeling taken off balance despite having prepared himself. Something with the room having...made him uncomfortable. _Just say it and get out_... "Thank you for finding my things."

It was bitter, to thank his father's _murderer_, but it had to be said, he _was_ grateful for that little mercy after all... "As you said, worthless baubles to anyone but you, nothing to thank me for." Lynn's voice was cold and harsh, as he had expected, the gifts were neither for his loyalty nor a kindness, just given because he wanted it and she had _no_ use for them.

"Still...thank you." Nathaniel sighed, took a deep breath...and forced himself to meet the Commander's eyes. "I will stay."

The elf's eyes didn't even show a hint of response to the words. Her voice flat and cold: "I know."

She had said he wouldn't leave...and she had been right...it was enough to make Nathaniel gag in disgust. But instead he kept his face carefully neutral, intent on seeing his plan through. "This does not make us friends though, only allies, I will not forget."_ I promise you_...

He saw the slight movement of the Seneschal, the man resting a hand on his sword at the dangerous words even as the old woman took a step away in worry. But Lynn remained impassive, as Nathaniel knew she would. "I know."

"Then we are in agreement." Nathaniel nodded and felt his shoulders stiffen at his words, despite already having made up his mind the rebellious part of him was disgusted with the idea of throwing in his lot with the monster of a woman before him. But what choice did he have?

"Yes." Lynn nodded too, short, simple, eyes boring into his asserting the dominance they both knew she already had.

Nathaniel looked away, shoulders dropping as he felt himself grow...weary, old. "Good."

He turned...and left the room.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for surviving this one._


	8. Chapter 8

_This is a unique way of acting for a lord_.

Nathaniel adjusted the bow fixed to his back, the legacy of his grandfather strapped on tightly, reminding him of his own lack of true accomplishments. Then again he had long ago pushed aside the idea of performing heroics and fighting the good fight, in contrast to the heavily armoured woman stoically remaining silent as they marched after their leader, her glances at him always of the glaring type.

Nathaniel ignored it though, hoping that the idiot patriot would soon stop suspecting him of treachery and instead go back to ogling the mage a bit further to the left. Instead he focused on the elf marching ahead of them, apparently barely caring if the others followed her or not as she made her way down the road surrounded by a forest that was quickly getting thicker and thicker. _A lord usually brings more then three guards_..._and __never__ charges into a possible dangerous situation with only those numbers_.

He grimaced. _Foolish_.

"What?" Mhairi pointedly asked, still glaring at him.

_Here we go_...Nathaniel looked over at the knight, the displeasure clear in her eyes as she tried to stare him down. Nathaniel wasn't impressed though, and his face remained impassive as he replied: "Pardon?"

"Don't try that, I saw the look." The woman scowled at him, as if he had just spit upon a statue of Andraste. "You don't like the Commander."

Nathaniel almost scoffed at the accusation. "Do I have to like her?" He glanced over at their leader, who made no sign that she was hearing the conversation, not that he really cared, they had made each other's position blatantly clear.

"Yes!" Mhairi bristled. "She's the hero of Ferelden!"

"That doesn't mean I have to _like_ her." Nathaniel pointed out and looked away, already bored by the conversation. _Hero_ _worship_..._foolish_ _woman_. The forest was not as thick as the ones in the Free Marches, which eased Nathaniel's worries a bit. Back there he would have been in the front, scouting out a safe path for the other mercenaries. Being in a small group ripe for plucking for any nearby bandits wasn't exactly what he had had in mind when he chose to stay with the Wardens...were they all so reckless?

"She defeated the blight, she's directly responsible for the survival of Ferelden...respect is due!" Mhairi growled, a hand coming up to punch him, only to slowly drop as she thought better of it. "And I don't trust you."

"Respecting and liking someone is two different things." Nathaniel shrugged, eyes narrowing as he tried to spot any sign of movement in among the trees, any hint of the bandits that preyed on the merchants that they were supposed to find. Yet there was nothing..._too_ much nothing.

_Something is wrong_.

"Ah, so you respect her?" Mhairi asked, sounding somewhat calmer.

_Do I_?_ Not in the proper sense_..._like one respects a tornado I suppose_..._but that's not true respect, __it's a healthy fear_. Nathaniel shrugged, most of his attention still on the trees around them. "I didn't say that." _Where are the birds_? _Or_ _the_ _insects_? _It's_ _too_ _quiet_...

"But you just..." Mhairi sighed, the hostility in her voice returning. "I still don't trust you."

"You said that already." Nathaniel dryly remarked, wishing the woman would shut up so he could concentrate. _There is definitively something off here_..._it's_ _not_ _an_ _ambush_ _waiting_ _to_ _happen_, _no,_ _then_ _it_ _would_ _itch_ _between_ _my_ _shoulder_ _blades_..._this_ _is_ _something_ _else_.

"Yes and you didn't answer that!" Mhairi growled loudly, her anger now marked with irritation.

Nathaniel sighed. _Is there no end to this infernal woman's blabbering_? "It wasn't a question."

"No but...gah!" Mhairi exclaimed in frustration, head snapping around to glare at a now chuckling Anders. "And what are _you_ so happy about!"

Still chuckling under his breath the man smirked at her. "Your frustration obviously, it's adorable."

"A-" The woman's words died in her open mouth as she stared at the mage, the glare turning into confusion, then a small blush, then more glaring, making him chuckle once more. "I will have you know that...that..." A pause, Mhairi searching for words, then simply raising her hands above her head in frustration as she looked up at the sky. "Men!"

Ignoring Anders' laugh and the following scowl of Mhairi Anders sniffed at the air, finding the smell..._off_. There was the normal smell of the forest, trees, grass, dirt...yet there was a distinct hint of something burnt...and the smell of dirt was stronger then it should be, as if the ground had been torn open, reminding him of the smell of fresh farmland rather then a forest. "We should have brought soldiers."

Mhairi turned away from glaring at a now grinning Anders to look over at Nathaniel with narrowed eyes. "They are busy taking in taxes and securing small strongholds against the growing number of darkspawn raids."

"All the more reason to bring some, can't have their Commander die out here." _No matter how good it would feel_... "We are few and vulnerable here."

"Have you _not_ heard the tales of the Commander?" Mhairi's glare, that Nathaniel had almost begun to think was her standard expression by now, turned into a smug look as she continued: "This is how she travelled, on foot, a small band of wardens and heroes, doing great deeds, turning the tide by coming to the rescue at a critical moment."

Nathaniel scoffed. "Propaganda, such a small group couldn't have done everything. It was not she who defeated the blight, it was Ferelden."

"A Ferelden _she_ united!" Mhairi's smug look instantly turned back to that ineffective glare of hers.

"Not arguing that." Nathaniel shrugged, irritated with himself for having drawn Mhairi's attention from Anders. _Shouldn't have said anything_. "But don't be naïve, a small group like this is vulnerable, unlikely to survive and can't do too much to change the course of history, by force of arms at least."

"Which makes the accomplishment of doing _just_ _that_ all the more grand!" Mhairi argued, a fire in her eyes, excitement of the idea of such heroics mixed with the irritation of Nathaniel not simply accepting it as truth.

Nathaniel shrugged, knowing far too well that one couldn't argue these things with people like Mhairi, they either died, or leant by surviving. He was more surprised that Lynn of all people would lead them into such danger without a proper force, considering that at least the broad strokes of her tale had to be true it was surprising that such a veteran would take such a risk... _Maybe she's suicidal_? Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at the elf's back, the memory of those dead eyes looking into his all too clear. _Or maybe she doesn't care_? _Either way she's the only one that's useful to talk to about this_..._which says a lot about the company she keeps_. He shot the smirking apostate and the idealist knight an exasperated look.

Ignoring the look Mhairi was giving him, a look demanding an answer to her foolish exclamation, Nathaniel lengthened his steps so as to reach their marching leader.

The elf didn't offer him any sign that she noticed him as he came up next to her, her eyes facing forward, jaw set, as if she was resolved upon nothing else but reach the other side of the road. Nathaniel found that a bit strange since they were supposed to find something in the forest, not get through it...but decided against pointing that out. Instead he settled for the simple. "Something is wrong."

"Agreed." Lynn replied, voice cold as always, her eyes still facing forward. "None have ambushed us."

_That's__ her plan_?_ To have our small numbers be pounced upon by bandits_?_ She __is__ suicidal_! Nathaniel kept his tone neutral though as he noted: "No animals, and the scent of the forest is wrong." He tried to think that he was just on another mission with the mercenaries in the Free Marches, not next to his father's murderer. He failed...but at least he kept his tone neutral even as he shot the woman a glare. "This is not the work of bandits."

There was a slight pause as the woman considered his words, then a short nod. "Agreed." Then she suddenly turned her head to look at him, and Nathaniel found himself inwardly cursing himself as he looked away, the dead eyes looking at him too unnerving to face. "Suggestions?"

_Huh, at least she's not a Commander unwilling to listen_...Nathaniel grimaced, unsure if he was supposed to be happy about that or not. Of course it was good for his survival rate, and not to mention that he in general appreciated leaders that listened to those that just ordered around. On the other hand a selfish little piece of him wanted the woman to do wrong, to have no redeeming qualities. _A fool's wish_. Nathaniel shrugged the suicidal notion aside. "We stop baiting them, we enter the forest and find them instead."

"Can you do this?" No hesitation, no argument about the idea of strategy, just a question aimed at seeing if it was possible...and also confirming that _she_ couldn't.

The pride of knowing she knew nothing of tracking was childish though...Nathaniel _knew_ that and shrugged it off, he would not be so pathetic with the woman he despised. Instead he just nodded, not hesitating either: "Yes, easily."

"Good, do it." Nothing more, the elf stopping in her tracks as she gestured for Nathaniel to get to work, her stance tense, ready to leap into action. Despite her uncaring look she almost looked...impatient.

Nathaniel wasted no time, the idea of hesitating in front of her abhorrent to him.

Instead he went to work.

8

8

8

The tracks of the bandits were easy to follow, _too_ easy.

At first Nathaniel had suspected some sort of trap; that the bandits were being far more clever then usual and were preparing to face a group they might find dangerous in the best position possible.

But the tracks were _too_ wide, _too_ many branches had been snapped, _too_ much had been disturbed...it wasn't _believable_ if the bandits were trying to lure the group into an ambush, it was too _obvious_. Then he had found blood on some leaves...and a couple of breaths later a corpse, a man in torn leather armour whose entire chest had been crushed by some giant force.

The group had all drawn their weapons as he had shown them the decidedly dead bandit.

No, there was no ambush waiting on them. The tracks were obvious because the bandits were in a hurry.

And Nathaniel had seen other tracks as well...large tracks...imprints large and heavy enough to crush not only the grass but also press the earth down. He had shown them to the others...and told them that he had honestly no idea what thing could make such marks.

Even now, crouched by another one of those giant prints, his bow in his left hand and his right resting atop the imprint, he couldn't figure it out. _It's not warm, yet the grass has still not risen...it feels as if we're close yet_... _and_ _what_ _makes_ _such_ _a_ _mark_? _It's_ _uneven_..._different_ _each_ _time_, _only_ _the_ _size_ _seems_ _constant_..._probably_ _bigger_ _then_ _a_ _bear_. Nathaniel didn't like the conclusion, or rather, the lack of conclusion.

"Let me guess..." Anders voice was painfully loud in the equally painfully quiet forest, the mage no doubt smirking at Nathaniel's back. "...the great tracker still don't know what's ahead of us."

"Maybe he's not as good as he claims?" Mhairi added with an obvious grin, no doubt wanting to vent some of her frustration with Nathaniel.

_Unimportant_. Nathaniel shrugged. "The tracks are still unfamiliar, but we're close." He suddenly tensed, feeling..._something_. "Very close."

Anders chuckled. "Well _that's_ a relief, I can't wait for the bandits to-"

"Hush!" Nathaniel raised the hand holding his bow towards Anders as he leant forward in his crouching position, ears perking as he heard it...a slight crack...distant but unmistakable. "Straight ahead, close."

"I don't hear anything." Mhairi scoffed, but Nathaniel ignored it as he cocked his head to the side, eyes half-closed as he tried to pick up more sounds.

Metal...wood...voices...loud but muffled by terrain... "There's a battle ahead of us."

"I still don't hear anything." Mhairi grunted, her armour loud as she shrugged.

Turning, Nathaniel inwardly sighed, but didn't bother to point out the obvious. _That's because you're wearing a helmet_...instead he turned to Lynn, the dead eyes looking back at him making him shudder. Yet he kept his voice steady, words clipped as he reported. "Sizeable battle, nearby, rough terrain ahead."

A nod...and the elf began to run, brushing past him even as she drew her weapons, simply ploughing through any bushes in her path as her golden armour crashed through the under brush, heavy boots loudly thumping into the ground.

Nathaniel could only stare after her, not really comprehending what had just happened. _So much for subtlety_..._how__ has she survived for so long_?

A roar. "For Ferelden!" And Mhairi rushed after the Commander, her heavy armour flattening a bush in her path even as her sword cut down a small tree as she charged forth like some berserker high on deep mushrooms. _And there goes idiot number two_...

Sighing he looked back at Anders, who with the staff in his hand was smirking at Nathaniel's obvious frustration. The smirk widened as a glint of an idea formed into the mage's eyes, making Nathaniel shake his head in realisation._ For the love of_..._please_ _don't_.

Raising his staff high the man assumed a mock serious look and cried out: "For _kittens_!" Before rushing past Nathaniel, almost tripping on the brush Mhairi had crushed even as he with a less then convincing roar rushed after the others.

Nathaniel stared after the charging mage, mouth silently working as he struggled not to start cursing. _And the only one having __some__ intelligence does the same thing_..._am I the __only__ one finding rushing headlong into a fight we know nothing about foolish_?

Then he realised he was alone, and that the others were fighting, perhaps desperately so...and a curse escaped him. _Damn honour_...

He charged after them.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, as always._


	9. Chapter 9

Nathaniel darted up the hill, bow in his left and as his right reached back for his quiver, drawing an arrow mid-stride.

Then he reached the top...and came to a quick stop.

There was a large glade below him, the once tall grass having been flattened by the men and..._creatures_...still covering it, fighting.

The men, bandits judging by their worn leather armour and somewhat improvised way of fighting, were divided into smaller groups, huddled together as they desperately tried to fight their way out of the tightening noose of the many lumbering creatures closing in on them.

_No wonder I didn't recognise the tracks_...Nathaniel's eyes narrowed as he watched the many trees lumber towards the bandits. Trees..._walking _trees...Nathaniel was unsure if he was to believe it, but there they were, as plain as day.

They were tall, as one would expect, roughly human in build but spindly, reminding Nathaniel of the insects he'd found in the Free Marches that took on the appearance of sticks. There were still leaves growing from their eyeless heads and obscenely long arms, but mostly they were just lithe coils of brown wood that creaked against one another as the unreal creatures moved with lumbering steps.

Nathaniel had of course heard of the tales of Sylvans, demons trapped within trees filled with desire to kill men...but he had always figured them to be stories to scare off the inexperienced from the woods, not something real. _And I was apparently wrong_.

With that settled Nathaniel looked for his allies, finding the Commander at the head of the group, already rushing towards the back of one of the walking trees as it advanced upon three screaming bandits, its swinging arms forcing them ever backwards.

Further back Mhairi and Anders stood together, the knight's sword already stained with blood as she stood upon two slain bandits, the mage's staff crackling with power as a third bandit was turned to ice...only to shatter into chunks of frozen blood and organs as the edge of Mhairi's shield smashed into the man. The two exchanged an all too stupid grin. _Oh just jump one another and get it over with_...

Focusing back on the Commander Nathaniel suppressed the urge to land an arrow into that exposed back of hers and instead watched as the sylvan turned at the sound of her approach. _Guess it'll kill her for me then_... Nathaniel moved to loose his arrow, to shoot the sylvan and distract it from squashing his Commander...yet found himself unable to do so, _something_...stopping him.

Lynn rolled to her left as the Sylvan's right arm shot out, loudly crashing into the ground where she had just stood. The woman's axe darted out towards the limb a moment later, digging deeply into where Nathaniel guessed its wrist was. An oddly keening sound escaped the creature as it pulled its arm back...and the Commander with it, her axe still stuck in it...and her unwilling to part with it. _Suicidal_, _crazy_...

With a crack the axe was loosened from the still moving arm, but Lynn already had the momentum up and kept flying, her sword slamming straight into the Sylvan's face, down to the very hilt, the blade sticking out the other side. As the creature recoiled Lynn's feet kicked out as she flew over the Sylvan's right shoulder, changing the direction of her flight and swinging her over the back of its head...and finally over its left shoulder.

There was a crack as the Sylvan's head was twisted to the right...far too far for _any_ neck to twist...a loud groan of tearing wood...and its head was wrenched off.

The creature collapsed even as Lynn deftly landed in front of it, its head still speared on her sword...and the woman not even looking strained by the manoeuvre. _Holy_...

The three bandits behind the now slain Sylvan breathed sighs of relief and moved to thank her...only for one of them to be bowled over as she kicked off the Sylvan's head off her blade, sending it straight into his gut. The other two begun to raise their weapons...only to both come to a stop as the elf's sword swung around, a blur of silver passing through them both...decapitating the pair. They hadn't even fallen before the elf moved forth, an armoured boot coming down on the still bowled over bandit. The snap of his leg breaking echoed over the glade...as did his roar of pain. _Unholy_...

Shaking his head Nathaniel shifted his focus, his gaze instantly drawn to Mhairi and Anders who were both shouting in surprise and fear as one of the Sylvans detached from those closing in on the rapidly dying bandits, its eyeless face focused on the pair as its lumbering gait quickly closed the distance.

Nathaniel instinctively loosed his arrow, hitting the creature's left knee, getting stuck between the coils of wood there, obstructing it's movement and making the creature come to a stumbling halt, the thing nearly tipping over as its right arm uselessly lashed out towards the pair that were too far away to reach.

A second later fire spewed out from Anders' staff, pouring over the sylvan, setting the entire creature ablaze as the dry wood and leaves were ignited. It reared back in what might be pain, yet with the arrow now burnt to nothing it still moved to attack, uncaring of the pieces of charred wood falling off as it closed the distance on the mage that even if he now was slain had dealt it a killing blow. "Ah!" Anders jumped back, hand coming up to shield his face from the heat of the burning sylvan.

Then the creature fell forward, sending a cloud of black ash flying as its right leg all of a sudden came off at the knee, the still swinging Mhairi kicking the severed part of the limb aside as she closed the distance, digging her blade deep into the lower back of the prone Sylvan.

A crack...and the smouldering piece of animated wood was severed in two, both parts breaking apart as all integrity of the burnt wood was lost.

"Anders! Fireball!" Lynn barked the order even as she rushed towards the central cluster of bandits and Sylvans, most of whom were now turning towards the elf and her companions, recognising a new threat.

The mage raised his hands above his head, staff spinning as he muttered some sort of incantation, a ball glowing amber forming above his head, making the woman next to him flinch and stare at the growing ball of power with wonder. An incoherent shout...and Anders thrust his staff forward, sending the glowing ball of energy hurtling forth...hitting one of the Sylvans straight in the chest even as Lynn hurtled straight towards them, uncaring of the impending explosion.

A flash of fire and destruction, consuming the golden armoured elf and blinding Nathaniel...and there was a loud groan as the gathered Sylvans reeled back, their bodies afire. Somehow Lynn was still standing though, or rather, hanging, the woman having shielded herself from the blast by burying her weapons in the back of one of the Sylvans and pressing up tightly behind its back. Even as Nathaniel watched, the Commander climbed higher atop it, her swinging axe finally shattering its smouldering skull.

But the bandits had eluded the explosion, covered by the many Sylvans as they had been...and seeing their 'saviours' having killed some of them the men pulled backwards as they readied crude bows, ready to pepper the Wardens and the Sylvans both.

_They're too tightly packed though, should keep it that way_. Nathaniel reached back and fortunately found one of his special arrows. _Should put those in separate quivers really_. Calmly he notched the arrow, the only difference between it and the others its weight, dropped onto one knee...and took aim. The bandits were slow, struggling with still drawn swords and axes as they tried to bring bows and arrows to bear, still huddled up for defending themselves in close combat..._an easy target_.

Nathaniel released the arrow.

An instant later the heavy missile struck the foremost bandit in the chest...and shattered. The dust made of iron flakes that Nathaniel had personally filed out from a lump of iron exploded from the hollow shaft of the arrow, a cloud of grey that enveloped the bandits, making them cough and drop their weapons as hands came up to free their eyes from the sharp little shards suddenly digging into their eyes...and only succeeding in driving them further in, making the men cry out in pain.

Closer to him Nathaniel saw Lynn jump off the falling Sylvan, leaping onto the chest of another and digging her sword into its neck, her axe smashing into the side of its head a second later...a pull and its head was torn off. Before the charred and now headless Sylvan even had time to fall she pushed out with her legs, sending her hurtling into a third one..._dear Maker_..._she's_ _unstoppable_!

Ignoring the humbling realisation Nathaniel notched a fresh arrow and neatly placed it into the chest of one of the blinded bandits, felling him. A second and another bandit bit the dust, a third and a bandit fell while clutching his torn throat. A fourth arrow, a fifth. Nathaniel loosed them in rapid succession, barely paying it much heed as he calmly executed bandit upon bandit, instead focusing on the others as they fought the still smouldering Sylvans.

Only now did Mhairi reach the Sylvans, her swinging shield smashing asunder an already charred leg of one of the giant trees and making it drop to the ground. Her swinging sword ending its trashing by cleaving off its head. A second reached for her, only to have its swinging fist deflected by a raised shield.

Then the woman's sword begun to burn, ethereal fire covering the blade, making her look down at it in shock...before shooting a smirking Anders a smile.

Then the burning blade swung at the already damaged Sylvan, opening its right leg and making it bow low...where her return stroke opened up its chest and set it ablaze.

Further ahead Lynn slew what had to be her seventh Sylvan, the little elf bowling the creature over as she crashed into its chest, its trashing arms unable to reach her in time as she reversed her grip on her sword, raised it... before burying it in the Sylvan's head,ending its struggle in an instant. _She_ _makes_ _it_ _look_..._easy_.

Nathaniel had to grudgingly admit he was impressed as he found the fighting petering out, the last bandit falling with Nathaniel's arrow buried deep in his eye, the last of the Sylvans breaking apart by a simple bash of Mhairi's shield as the charred wood gave in...and Lynn already moving on.

Hurrying after her Nathaniel couldn't help but stare at the destruction. He had fought in battles, killed many, seen villages ablaze...yet it was something disturbing about the destruction wrought upon the glade here...because it had been done by just four people. He had seen it..._done_ it...yet it was hard to believe now that he _saw_ it. _Maybe the tales of the Warden's heroics aren't all propaganda_..?

A cry drew his attention back to Lynn, the Commander towering over a single living bandit. Nathaniel heard Anders wince at the sight even as he himself remembered that the woman had moved so as not to kill this man. _Clever_...

The man was a mess. His gaunt face a testament to a lean winter, large blue eyes speaking of terror and tearful with a pain he was in too much shock to properly feel just yet. His badly maintained leather armour still had twigs and pieces of greenery stuck to it, a sign of his panicked flight through rough terrain. The armour lay open at his right leg, his white shin-bone sticking out of the wide wound from where Lynn had stomped down with brutal efficiency.

"Maker..." The man grit his teeth as he stared up at the dead eyes of the elf looking down at him...then opened his mouth wide as he looked down at the broken bone sticking out of his leg. "Maker!" His hands dipped down towards the injury, only to fly back at the slight touch and drawing a howl from him.

"Silence." Lynn coldly ordered, her foot swinging out, hitting the man in the jaw with enough force to make a couple of teeth fly out of the man's mouth as his head snapped sideways. Making both Anders and Mhairi wince in sympathy as Nathaniel crossed his arms in front of himself, used to rough interrogations over in the Free Marches as he was. _At least it'll be quick, I don't want to stay here in case anything heard our fight, which anything with __ears__ should have_...

"Oww!" The muffled cry escaped the man as one hand came up to clutch his bloodied mouth. "You bitch! That-"

Another kick ended the protest, turning it into a howl and making the man roll onto his side as the Commander's foot connected with the exposed bone sticking out of the man's wound. "I said silence." Lynn repeated, her arms crossed in front of her as she stepped forth and put a foot against the man's shoulder, forcing him onto his back as he continued to howl. "_Now_." 

The man's mouth slammed shut, the blood covering it still fresh and dark over his lips as his face crunched up, struggling not to scream as wide eyes darted between the uncaring woman looking down at him and his shin-bone sticking out of his leg. He somehow managed a nod though, indicating that he understood.

"This is wrong..." Mhairi muttered, inching closer to Anders who had gone extremely pale.

Both Lynn and Nathaniel ignored the weak-stomached pair though as the elf leant closer to the bandit, head cocked to the side. "What has happened here? Why did you fight the Sylvans?"

The man opened his mouth, blood covering his teeth, yet he spoke clearly...thought he voice was tinged with a pain that was only _barely_ contained by fear. "I...they've been chasing us...days...weeks...we don't know why..." He shook his head desperately, grimacing in pain. "..herded us...we didn't do nothing...we barely chop wood if we can help it..."

"Why?" Nathaniel ignored the glance Lynn's shot him, instead focusing on the bandit as he kept his arms crossed in front of him.

"Don't want to...upset the Dalish." The man grunted, a shudder running through him as his hands clutched his leg, just above the injury, trying to stem the flow of blood...or more likely...vainly trying to stop the pain coursing through him. "B-but these things...they're...they just came...no Dalish...n-nothing...herded us...all gangs here...all dead...no-one left." He frowned, confused. "We didn't _do_ anything...the others didn't either...I...don't..." He shook his head, shuddering, blood-loss clearly taking its toll, Nathaniel saw it in his feverish face.

"And the merchants?" Lynn asked, inching closer. Despite the pain distracting him the bandit shuddered under her gaze. "Did the Sylvans kill them too?"

"I..." The man closed his eyes, a shaky breath coming from his nose as he struggled with consciousness. "...don't k-know...not seen...any...h-haven't a-attacked any i-in...weeks..."

_Which means the bandits aren't responsible but these Sylvans, but why_?

"S-saw elf..._elf_!" The man blinked, his eyes suddenly clear as he leant forward, staring at Nathaniel in a feverish haze, making him draw back in surprise at the intense look in the bandit's eyes. "...elf...yet _not_...not there...yet _there_..." He shook his head, violently, head twitching to the left as he trembled with blood-loss, eyes bulging. "Ghost...just ghost...can't be...not there...yet taunting...question...always question...don't know...can't know...she asked...didn't know..."

_He's a goner_. Nathaniel noted, glumly realising they wouldn't get any further info from the man. Lynn seemed to disagree with the assessment though as she gripped the bandit by the collar and heaved him closer. "What elf? What ghost? What question?"

The man shook his head madly, not meeting her eyes, his whole body shaking. "Always question...not ghost...but not there...not there but there...ghost...question..."

"He's no use." Nathaniel muttered and shrugged. "Too far gone."

A shrug and Lynn grabbed the bandit's head with her hands and replied: "Agreed."All but Nathaniel looked away as they realised what was about to happen.

Lynn's arms moved...and the bandit's neck snapped.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the invaluable aid._


	10. Chapter 10

"Wait."

Nathaniel stopped mid-stride, his nose twitching as his eyes followed a new set of tracks. These were footprints as well...but joined with long lines..._many_ of them. Much had been dragged right past where the group now stood...and Nathaniel instantly saw the few droplets of blood nearly hidden in the grass. _Interesting_...

"What is it _this_ time?" Mhairi moaned, the woman's fuse having gotten shorter and shorter the longer they had spent trekking through the woods she no doubt thought of as endless. Nathaniel ignored her though as he crouched low, a hand brushing aside some grass from one of the imprints of a foot, head dropping low to sniff at it. _Strange_..._it_ _smells_ _of_ _mud_, _not_ _grass_.

A small chuckle escaped Anders, the mage no doubt smirking at Mhairi. "Now, now, he's picked up a scent, you know dogs must follow such things through."

An inane giggle escaped Mhairi at that, but Nathaniel ignored it, as he did the insult, instead he moved a hand towards one of the droplets of blood, putting it between two fingers and rubbing it. _Thick_..._old_..._this_ _has_ _been_ _here_ _for_ _some_ _time_.

Looking back, Nathaniel dutifully shot the mage a glare, but the man just shrugged apologetically and gestured for Mhairi who was still was chuckling a little, her face red and sweaty under her helmet that nearly glowed like another sun in the burning midday sun. _Fair enough_..._at least it keeps her glaring to a minimum_. Shrugging Nathaniel turned to their Commander.

Despite her wearing armour that glowed just as much as Mhairi's Lynn didn't look the least bothered by the sun her pale face devoid of expression, waiting for him. He could swear she could stay like that for hours and not change her expression in the least...Nathaniel decided not to test that theory though and nodded towards the tracks: "They're old but sizeable, could be worth following up on."

A nod, the elf not saying a word as she gestured for him to continue.

_Good_ _call_. Nathaniel grumbled as he turned back to the tracks, hands brushing over the grass. _It_ _has_ _almost_ _gotten_ _straight_ _again_..._but_ _it was_ _bent_..._that_ _way_... He moved, pushing through a bush to the right as he in a low crouch followed the fading tracks, absently noting how the droplets of blood got fewer and fewer. _Whatever was dragged had lost a lot of blood beforehand_..._they were dragged a long way_...

Ignoring Mhairi's exasperated sigh and Anders chuckling Nathaniel continued, surprised by the level of vegetation they were suddenly encountering, making the tracks harder to follow and also making his advance physically difficult._ It's almost as if_...narrowing his eyes he grabbed the nearest bush...heaving he rolled it over, finding its roots decidedly free of earth. _These bushes were dragged here as well_... "Wait..." Nathaniel gestured for the others to hold, his senses twitching with suspicion.

"Oh for the love of..." Mhairi growled. Nathaniel ignored it, ears perking as he heard something...

"At least there's shade here." Anders cheerfully pointed out. Nathaniel ignored it, suddenly aware that the smell had changed, the smell of unearthed ground was thicker here, along with the unmistakable stench of death.

_Flies_..._I'm_ _hearing_ _flies_...

Nathaniel grimaced, already knowing what he would find as he stepped forth, advancing on the solid line of brushes ahead of him. Grabbing a hold of them he wrenched them aside...and gagged at the rancid smell smashed into him like a blow.

_They've been here for a while_. Nathaniel dryly noted that fact even as he heard Mhairi growl in anger, their Commander silent as she marched past him...and Anders loudly gagging.

The ditch was wide and shallow, a thin layer of dirt having been thrown over it. Obviously a quick and sloppy job, whoever had done this having trusted the shrubbery they had dragged over the area to stop any passers-by accidentally stumbling upon the mass-grave.

And a mass-grave it was.

There was a thickening cloud of flies hovering over the dead, arms, legs and heads sticking out of the thin layer of dirt. Pale and covered in small, dark wounds, wounds where flies and other insects were gathering to feed, to make the wounds larger. _There has to be forty dead here_... Nathaniel narrowed his eyes and followed Lynn's example, closing the distance to the shallow grave, grimacing at the smell even as Lynn's foot kicked out at the nearest corpse, brushing some of the dirt off it.

Revealing scale armour and the face of a man whose mouth and sightless eyes were still open wide in a scream, nearly making Nathaniel grimace. _I hate seeing dead like this_..._unfresh_. He and Lynn both crouched down next to the corpse, eyeing it with narrowed eyes. _These_ _are_ _all_ _humans_ _in_ _armour_..._militiamen_? _What_ _are_ _they_ _doing_ _here_?

The man's abdomen had been opened up, the wound arching slightly downwards, covering his legs with blood. Yet there was also a small splatter of dark blood over his chest as well...surprising Nathaniel since he saw no other wound than that across the corpse's abdomen. Lynn obviously found this interesting too as she reached out...and forced a droplet onto her finger...before putting it in her mouth!

Even Nathaniel grimaced at that, and behind him he heard Anders loudly heave, the mage no doubt having reached the last straw in what he could take. As for Mhairi...there were only muttered prayers from the woman, for the souls of the dead soldiers no doubt.

A second later Lynn spat, the elf nodding shortly, her voice cold: "Genlock blood, these men were killed by darkspawn."

"You can _taste_ the difference between different darkspawn?" Mhairi muttered, her voice low with solemnity.

Nathaniel shook his head, ignoring Mhairi's question as his gaze roamed over the dead. "Do darkspawn usually steal the weapons of those they slay?" There were no weapons there, not a blade...for someone that had so sloppily hidden the dead Nathaniel found the theft of weapons strange. _Perhaps they just left them where they killed the men_?_ But that would make hiding the dead useless_...

"No." Lynn stood up, making Nathaniel do the same. "They make their own."

Nathaniel grimaced and looked over at the other two, finding Mhairi close to Anders and helping him straighten as the pale mage moved a hand over his mouth, an embarrassed flush around his neck as he glanced over at Mhairi, who just smiled reassuringly. Shaking his head Nathaniel dryly noted: "Then they took them for a specific reason."

"Yes." Lynn replied, already moving to leave. "Can you track where the darkspawn went after dumping the bodies?"

Nathaniel grimaced as he glanced back at the grave, or more specifically, the maze of tracks around it, marked by many feet walking back and forth. _Too_ _much_ _information_..._too_ _confusing_. "No."

The elf nodded, not even turning around, as if having expected his answer. Despite his simmering anger towards her Nathaniel found himself relieved, making him roll his eyes. _Yes, perish the thought you'd disappoint her_... "Then we go back and try to track them from there."

Nathaniel grimaced as he moved to follow, ignoring the look of desperation Mhairi was shooting the dead, no doubt wishing to bury them more properly, as he did Anders' silently comforting arm over her shoulder. Instead he forced himself to nod in agreement. "A sound plan." _Damn_ _you_...

Then there was a loud crack ahead of him, as if a large tree was being snapped in two.

Nathaniel ran forth, sudden alarm gripping his senses as he rushed up to Lynn, finding the elf standing very still as she looked up at another woman atop a small mound, even as Nathaniel watched coiling ropes of wood were trailing down from the woman's legs, disappearing into the ground.

The other woman was an elf as well, though Nathaniel hadn't thought it at first since the woman was surprisingly tall for an elf. Tall and _tanned_...her skin exposed to the sun in a way Nathaniel had never seen any alienage elves be, a woman who had lived in the outdoors. And _much_ of it was on display...showing so much of her long legs and surprisingly bountiful chest, enough to put a _human_ to shame, that Nathaniel wondered if modesty was a foreign concept to her. _Reminds me of the prostituted elves in the cities_..._but even those didn't have such chests_..._what do they __feed__ the Dalish elves_?

Because the woman could be nothing but a Dalish, not only the healthy skin-tone, far away from the sickly pale alienage elves, suggested it, her pale green robe was clearly made of deer leather and covered in intricate patterns that Nathaniel hadn't seen before. Not to mention that her bright grey eyes burned with a hatred that the Dalish had become famous for. Her sandy hair was pulled back in a bun, a few strands having escaped it and hanging over her right eyes...leaving her _extremely_ long ears exposed. _Must be some strange diet that_...

"Whoa! Got milk?" Anders asked with a chuckle as the mage caught up with them, then winced as Mhairi with a growl shoved an elbow into his ribs.

"You!" The woman snapped the word and pointed a thin finger towards the group, eyes narrowed in hostility, her angular face twisting into a mask of anger and her voice venomous despite the inherent softness Nathaniel could detect behind her tone. "More outsiders! What does it take to make you _leave_! And with a flat ear too!" She snorted and glared at Lynn...then looked away from the dead eyes gazing up at her. "You think that will make me show mercy!"

"No." Lynn replied, arms crossed, waiting.

The other elf shook her head, face twisting into a mask of rage. "That's all you have to say! My sister _taken_! My friends _dead_...and you don't even _try_ to explain yourself!" Nathaniel glanced back at the other two, finding both shrugging in confusion. _What is she __talking__ about_...? "Then you will die like all the rest!"

Lynn's voice was cold, uncaring. "No."

The look of rage turned into dark hatred. "Oh yes you will..." Suddenly the woman's arms moved...

And the trees came alive.

"Take the shot!" Nathaniel barely heard Lynn's barking order over the creaking sound of five trees surrounding them suddenly coming alive, arms and legs becoming freed from their trunks as they became animated. Yet he moved, ignoring the Sylvans as he drew his bow, notched an arrow, pulled the string taut...and loosed the missile towards the crazed elf.

Only to have the arrow thud into coiling ropes of wood that suddenly sprang from the ground, enveloping the Dalish.

They disappeared back into the ground as suddenly they had appeared, leaving nothing but air where the elf had once been. _Neat_ _trick_...

Nathaniel had no time to contemplate the elf's magic though, nor what she had said, all that he _could_ do was to roll forward as a Sylvan's swinging arms nearly took his head off. Coming back onto his feet he pulled another arrow at the ready and took aim at the head of the creature, finding it towering over him. _It's very big this close_...he loosed the arrow...which simply thudded into the creature's eyeless face. _Ah_..._new_ _plan_.

Jumping back from another swing of its arms Nathaniel tried to put some distance between himself and the Sylvan, but found himself unable to do so as it simply followed with a lumbering yet long gait, easily keeping up with him as he tried the odd shot at it.

_Don't have time, can't aim properly_... Nathaniel felt his heart rate increase as he more and more desperately shot arrow after arrow into the creature, only to find the missiles simply sticking to the uncaring creature without doing any real damage. _Maker just give me a moment to __aim_!

Then he was flying.

Blinking he tried to make sense of it...only to find his vision filling with bright light as his back loudly smashed into a tree, his bow falling from suddenly limp fingers. _What_...

Pain.

Doubling over Nathaniel fell onto all four, gasping for breath his left hand came up to clutch at his chest, finding his breaths laboured as his lungs struggled to draw new air. _Cracked_ _rib_..._hurt_... He heard the crash of the Sylvan closing the distance though, felt the ground shake under his palm... _No_ _time_, _move. _He shuddered, mind swimming with confusion._ G__et_ _up_...

He grunted and heaved his left foot up, finding blood covering his lips as he glared up at the Sylvan closing the distance. _Damn_ _elf_..._move_ _dammit_! He couldn't though, his breath hitching as he tried to raise his other foot, a spike of icy pain shooting through him, nearly making him fall over again.

_Can't_ _die_..._not_ _now_... He managed a dry chuckle at the thought, ignoring the pain as he barred his teeth at the approaching Sylvan about to crush him with its now raised fist. _Life never been fair_..._come on then you pathetic pile of stove-food_..._give me your best shot_. He growled in defiance, still one knee as he pulled free a flask from his belt. He wasn't in any state to throw the flask of acid at it, but when the creature crushed him he would give it a burn to be remembered...

Then there was a shout. "For Ferelden!"

The Sylvan wobbled, its right leg cut in twain along the length and fire suddenly racing up towards its thigh. Mhairi appeared a moment later, the heavily armoured woman's sword covered in eldritch fire as she spun where she ran up between its legs, her sword hitting the inside of the Sylvan's left knee and making it fall forward.

Nathaniel winced as the ground shook with the creature's impact as it fell prone, his teeth bared in irritation as much as pain as he watched the knight jump up on the Sylvan's back, crying out in victory as she plunged her sword into its back. _Great, saved by the idealist_...

A moment later he felt the prickling sensation of healing magic as he saw Anders come walking, the man smirking as he held his staff raised, white light glowing from its tip, white light that Nathaniel _felt_ within him...he offered the mage a grateful nod as he took his bow and got to his feet. _At least I'm alive, that's what's important_. He looked over at Mhairi, finding the woman grinning at him in satisfaction...and forced himself to bow his head as he spoke the needed words: "Thank you, I will not forget you saving my life, and do my utmost to deserve such a deed."

The woman's grin instantly disappeared, replaced by one of surprise, then irritation. She turned her head away. "We are allies, it's expected."

"True." Nathaniel nodded in ascent even as he turned to Lynn, not at all surprised to find the woman already walking up to him, broken pieces of wood and sap still stuck to her armour. "You still have my gratitude though...Commander?"

Lynn wasted no time on words, as expected, dead an uncaring eyes focused on Nathaniel. "Can you track her?"

Nathaniel turned to look at the mound where the Dalish had simply disappeared through magical branches and narrowed his eyes. _It'll be hard_...then down at his chest where he still felt the slight ache of his once cracked rib..._and_ _the_ _end_ _result_ _satisfying_. He spat on the ground, fist clenching in anger. _She nearly bereft me of a chance to redeem my family name_...

"Oh I'll find her..."

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for continuously remaining both observant and clever._


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't through tracking that he found their quarry, not really.

It was logic.

Nathaniel had spotted the hill rising far above the rest, boulders of grey rock surrounding its top...and ignored Mhairi's and Anders' questions as he made his way up the steep slope. It was the perfect place to make camp for a people that quite rightly assumed the surroundings to be hostile, it was the spot Nathaniel would have picked.

What else could he do? There were no tracks, the woman having been swallowed by the ground itself, and if she _did_ have any tracks anywhere Nathaniel didn't trust himself to find a light _Dalish's _tracks among thousands of others...not by simple chance.

Yet he had been unwilling to admit defeat just yet, knowing the value of perseverance. Besides, what other option did they have? The woman was obviously one of the main causes of all the problems, what factor the darkspawn played Nathaniel wasn't sure, and as such they just had to find her. So he had continued his search...and calmly ignored Anders continued quips about asking the trees...and gone on, grateful for the silence when Lynn had finally told Anders to be silent.

And, as so many times before, his perseverance had paid off. Climbing the final stretch of the steep slope, ignoring Anders struggled breathing, Nathaniel felt a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of the tops of a pair of tents sticking up above the grey boulders blocking most of his view.

_Patience always leads to victory_. Nathaniel of course didn't show his satisfaction as he unslung his bow from his back and gestured for the others to stop, his voice low: "Camp ahead, I..." Then slammed his jaw shut as Lynn's eyes focused on him. _Oh_..._right_. "I..." He forced himself to ignore Mhairi's grin as he straightened. "...orders, Commander."

The woman paused, her eyes fixed on him, making him look away. "Follow my lead."

_Eh_? Nathaniel blinked and looked back after his Commander, only to find her brushing past him, weapons still sheathed, not the least bothered by the impending battle._ The elf can summon trees and use magic_..._shouldn't we_... Sighing he moved to follow Anders and Mhairi, the knight still grinning at him despite her drawn weapons, the mage having drawn his staff...and looking deceptively casual about it. _At least __they__ seem ready_... He pulled out an arrow and notched it as he followed.

Then he heard it, what Lynn _must_ have heard; The soft, nearly whispering, sound of sobbing.

_Dammit_. Nathaniel grimaced even as they pushed past the cover of the boulders. _Anything but crying_...

The camp was small, a mere two large tents standing opposite one another...and both visibly listing from the lack of attention paid to them. No Aravels, no burning camp-fires, a couple of broken crates...and dozens of weapons strewn across the ground, as if tossed across the camp by some uncaring giant._ A ghost camp_.

The elf wasn't hard to miss, she was at the far end of the camp, back turned to them, her head bowed. Before her four mounds of recently shifted earth lay in a row, thin saplings rising from each of them...

_Graves_.

Lynn's advance was slow and unhurried, leisured. The others followed, Nathaniel's arrow notched and ready. It would be so _easy_, the robe the Dalish wore would be no protection against the arrow, and at the shrinking distance he could virtually shoot right through her... _She_ _deserves_ _it_ _too_. Nathaniel felt the twinge of his recently healed ribs.

Yet he held...Lynn hadn't given any command...and it felt _wrong_...the soft crying and sudden..._frail_ look of the woman stopping him. All logic said she was dangerous, unpredictable, her magic able to call upon monsters and who knew what...and the dead bandits showing she was all too willing to do just that.

Yet...she wouldn't. He saw her shaking shoulders, her slouching stand...and knew the fight had gone out of her.

Despite that he winced in irritation as one of the swords strewn across the ground loudly scrapped against another, making both him and Mhairi shoot an apologetic looking Anders glares.

The elf didn't turn though, a snort escaping her as the crying stopped. "Survived did you?" The voice was now bereft of the anger, revealing the softness Nathaniel had detected in it before, the voice of someone not needing to raise her voice that often. She slowly shook her head: "Doesn't matter..."

Lynn cocked her head to the side and advanced, the others slowly following. Anders and Mhairi still had their weapons raised, but Nathaniel found himself lowering his bow. She reminded him of those prisoners they had taken in the Free Marches, while weapons were always used as a precaution they were often not needed...most prisoners just became meek children when the realisation of their status struck them.

_Yet_...he kept the arrow resting on the bow. _Just in case_...

"Come to finish the job have you?" The elf snorted. "You think I'll allow that?" _Uh oh_... "You think I'll _allow_ that!" The woman whirled about, spindly hands clenching into fists as she glared at the group with sudden heat. Anders and Mhairi recoiled, ready to fight, but Nathaniel saw the wetness around the burning eyes, burning eyes bruised with a lack of sleep...and knew Lynn saw it too. "You might have killed the others and taken my sister! But not _me_!"

"Your sister?" Lynn repeated, head still cocked to the side. "Others?"

The woman's face twisted into a grimace torn between anger and derision. "Don't play coy with me! And don't think sending some flat eared servant garbed in armour will trick me either!" The last was shot at Anders, the elf apparently thinking the robes meant the mage was in charge. Anders visibly shirked away from the glare, making Nathaniel smirk. _What_? _No_ '_funny_' _joke_?

"I am Lynn Tabris, the Warden."

There was a visible twitch in the elf's eyes, her head turning to look down at Lynn, as if finally seeing her, the woman's face softening. "The clans speak of you with respect..." The softness was then visibly shaken off as she glared at the humans behind the Commander. "What do you do with these shems?" Then the glare was turned back to the other elf. "Or is this _another_ ploy of the humans?"

Lynn took a heavy step forward. "I _am_ the Commander of the grey." Nathaniel watched as the other elf shuddered, frowning in surprise as she found herself forced to looked away from the Commander's dead eyes. _That's familiar_. "What ploy?"

"Don't try that." The elf snorted, yet refused to meet Lynn's eyes as she grit her teeth. "The men constantly travelling through the forest, pleading innocence even as they kick around their flat eared slaves, who claim not to know _anything_ of my sister..._filth_." She shot a glare over at the humans at Lynn's back. "_All_ of them."

_Feisty_... Nathaniel kept his face neutral as he found himself commenting: "Those were merchants, of course they didn't know anything, they wouldn't know anything even _if_ some other humans had kidnapped your sister."

The elf snorted and rolled her eyes at him, yet didn't meet his gaze. _She doesn't know the human world_..._she __can't__ argue because she doesn't __know_..._she killed men on such loose grounds_? _Thinking with her emotions no doubt, foolish_. Nathaniel grimaced in disgust, then for some reason found himself shooting Lynn a glance. _Foolish_ _Dalish_... "Of course a shem would say that...leave me be...or suffer the consequences."

Despite her earlier display of power Nathaniel heard Mhairi chuckle at the threat, by now they all saw that the elf was exhausted with grief and a lack of sleep, worn down to nothing by an all too familiar feeling of being powerless... Nathaniel found himself shooting the unknowing knight a glare. _There is nothing amusing here, only a tragedy for all involved_.

"I am the lord of these lands." Lynn spoke, her voice cold, uncaring of the small snort of the other elf glancing at the forest, showing just what the Dalish thought of such claims upon these particular lands. "And I'm telling you none in my land has taken your sister, none knew of you even being here."

"Lie all you want." The woman scoffed and turned away from them, her hands coming up to hug her shoulders tightly as she bowed her head to look back down on the graves she on her own must have dug. "The facts are plain as day." To demonstrate she shot one of the closest swords on the ground a small kick, sending it skittering away.

Taking a silent step forward Nathaniel bowed his head to whisper to Lynn. "These might be the dead militiamen's weapons... I'm not sure what you plan, but fighting seems...it would only add to the tragedy." _And I was the one getting hurt_...Nathaniel grimaced, realising all desire for vengeance had gone out of him at the understanding of the facts, as it always did. Despite the logic of it he couldn't help but feel that he was somehow cheating himself out of his own justice though...though he shrugged such foolish thoughts aside.

The Commander shrugged, no doubt not the least bothered by the idea of adding to the already high death-toll. Still, Nathaniel had to grudgingly admit that she didn't strike him as one who killed needlessly.

Her next words confirmed it. "The humans killed your friends?" The Commander made a small gesture for the graves.

"Yes." A miniscule nod of the Dalish, her voice small as she glanced back at them.

"Kidnapped your sister?"

"I already told you..." The voice was still small, but now tinged with irritation as the elf half-turned to look at the Commander...who calmly met the tearful gaze.

"And left their weapons here?"

There it was, a flash of confusion in the eyes of the Dalish, her forehead creasing. "I...well...humans are so..."

"Swords? Axes, maces?" Lynn pushed the issue, arms crossed in front of her. "Whole? Usable? Theirs?"

"I..." The woman frowned, looked away, eyes darting left and right, taking in the many still whole weapons littering the ground, her mind obviously full of confused thoughts. "...it...I..." She swallowed, a shudder running through her. "...it doesn't...I can't..."

Lynn seemed content to wait, forcing Nathaniel to take a step forth and offer: "We found dead militiamen in a ditch some distance away, unarmed and killed by darkspawn." He glanced at the weapons strewn over ground, standard gear...it was painfully obvious to see. "These are probably their weapons."

"D-darkspawn?" At first he thought it was fear that made the woman stutter, but when he looked up he found a darkness in the eyes narrowed at him...yet _not_ at him. "Darkspawn!" Gone was the sadness, the exhaustion, the weariness. The woman was once more afire with the rage he had seen at their first encounter, but now directed elsewhere. "_Darkspawn_ took my _sister_!" She bared her teeth in a feral growl, her head snapping around to glare down at the weapons strewn across the ground. "And they have made me waste my time with..." _Killing_ _innocent_? "...unimportant fools!" _Fair_ _enough_... "I'll rip their flesh from their bones for this!"

Anders chuckled at that, staff still held at the ready. "Nice crazy elf..."

"_You_!" The woman's head snapped round to glare at Lynn, a spindly finger reaching out to point at the Commander, her voice demanding. "Why would they do that! Where would they take her!" Nathaniel nearly chuckled at the sight, _diplomatic_... "Tell me now or I-"

"Or you what?" Lynn snapped, voice cold and harsh.

Silence.

The Dalish looked away, her fists clenched to her sides, her simmering rage seemingly ready to burst through at any moment, despite the cold shower of the recent revelations and Lynn's stoicism.

Then the Commander, still with her head cocked, spoke: "Their motives are alien, they have changed, but they will doubtlessly take her underground." The Dalish's head snapped round at that, a fire of knowledge and purpose in her eyes. "To become a broodmother."

_Broodmother_...Nathaniel shuddered at the name, despite not really knowing what it was. Didn't sound pleasant...

"I know of a mine..." The woman spoke, her voice soft as she thought back...then growled as she glanced back at the graves of her friends. "The darkspawn will pay for this." A short nod, if even that, aimed at Lynn's direction. "I'll go now."

"No you won't!" Mhairi suddenly snapped, weapon still drawn and at the ready as she risked a glance at Lynn before returning to glaring at the elf coldly regarding her. "Commander! This woman has killed dozens of merchants and their guards! Citizens of Ferelden! She must be punished! Clapped in irons!"

The elf scoffed at that, arms crossed in front of her chest as she regarded the human woman. "And _you_ are going to do that?" The elf arched an eyebrow, as if the four against one odds weren't even an issue. _Feisty_ _indeed_...Nathaniel held his bow lowered though, sure things would not come to blows any longer. "I'd like to see you try."

"We will not fight." Lynn growled, her word law, making Mhairi lower her weapons and the other elf to drop her arms to the side, the fire dying out of her as she found herself transfixed by Lynn's gaze. "But you _will_ come with us, if there's darkspawn to fight we will fight them."

The Dalish visibly shivered as she looked away, her voice slightly shaky as she tried to sound confident. "I care not for offers of aid from outsiders, those are always laced with-"

Her words turned into a strangle gasp as Lynn suddenly stood inches from her, golden gauntlet closed around the Dalish throat, pulling the taller elf's face level with her own. "That was _not_ an offer, it was a demand."

The Dalish's eyes visibly bulged at that, the fire in them dying out. "O-okay..."

"And when this is done you will answer to me for those you killed." Lynn's voice was cold, uncaring...and _unrelenting_, her fingers visibly digging into the tanned flesh of the Dalish's neck.

There was a flash of anger in the Dalish eyes, _despite_ Lynn's eyes meeting hers, making Nathaniel do a double take. _Impressive_... "If my sister is found I don't care, I'll be satisfied."_Huh_...Nathaniel wasn't sure if he was supposed to be impressed or derisive of such a stance.

"Good." Lynn released the other elf, drawing a small gasp from the woman as she reached for the imprints in her throat.

"So what do we call you?" Anders suddenly chimed in, sounding amused for some reason. "Reject number three, prisoner or 'you elf'?" _Diplomatic_ _as_ _always_...

The Dalish, still rubbing her throat, shot Anders a glare. "Call me elf again and I'll incinerate you." The mage took a step back, still smirking, but holding his hands up in placation, making Nathaniel smirk. _Ah, so __that's__ how you shut him up_... "And I am Velanna, from the clan of..." She glanced back at the graves at her back, the fire in her eyes fading a little. "...of the Dalish." _Hmmm_...

"Still say we should put her in chains..." Mhairi growled, looking away with a frown on her face.

Anders just smirked. "Ah yes, another hottie to the gang, can't co-ough!" He grunted as Mhairi shoved an elbow into his ribs even as the elf named Velanna glared at him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, only helping in amplifying his point, or so his leering smirk said.

_Am I happy with this_? Nathaniel still felt the aching of his ribs, but then again he had made allies out of enemies before, and this wasn't really an alliance, it was just using a prisoner as extra reinforcement. _The Commander seems to have a knack for that_...He nearly smirked at the thought, but settled for a neutral face as he offered the Dalish a curt nod. "Fair enough."

Lynn shrugged and gestured for the Dalish to proceed. "Take us to this mine you mentioned..."

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her vigilance._


	12. Chapter 12

The mine smelled of ash.

Nathaniel frowned, curious. There was this strange sense of abandonment in the mine...as if nothing had stirred within it for centuries. Yet...there was an odd itch between his shoulder blades.

_But there can be no ambush_...

Nathaniel's frown deepened as he looked around. The narrow flight of stairs of worn wood they walked on lead down to a small round chamber with an impressive ceiling, a couple of broken down carts and equally broken pieces of copper rail covering the floor. Far to his left he could see that the arching cave walls were interrupted by a small opening, no doubt leading to another mineshaft and meant for communication between them. But it wouldn't allow anyone to come down...and wasn't large enough to put some great horde of archers upon. The round chamber was quite easily defensible, there was only one entrance leading deeper into the mine, and the small opening far above it was too small for any serious attack.

_Yet_ _I_ _feel_..._something_.

Nathaniel unslung his bow and shot the others a worried glance.

Lynn was nearest him, the elf too having drawn her weapons. Yet she wasn't frowning, nor looking worried. _Then again she's as emotional as the stone around us_...Nathaniel refused to meet her dead eyes and instead looked beyond her, to Anders, the mage looking somewhat uncomfortable, eyeing the stone with a small frown. _Hmmm_..._maybe_ _he's_ _not_ _as_ _oblivious_ _as_ _he_ _pretends_ _to_ _be_?

Right behind him their 'prisoner' walked, though she looked like anything _but_ one at the moment. There was now a staff strapped to the woman's back and a fire in her eyes, the rings of exhaustion around said eyes apparently forgotten. _She's got spirit, I'll give her that_... Her lips were a thin line as she glanced over and over again at the high ceiling though, obviously not comfortable with something so solid above her head. _Or perhaps fearing it is __not__ solid_... Nathaniel shrugged the uncomfortable thought aside, there was no use pondering such dangers. Yet despite the obvious worry about the mine, as well as the fiery determination in her eyes...she walked slowly, measured, reminding Nathaniel of some of the animals he had hunted during his journeys. _Ugh_, _Dalish_...shaking his head he glanced past the woman's shoulder where Mhairi was walking.

The knight also had her weapons drawn, but far from any sense of danger form the surroundings, her sword aimed straight at the Dalish's back, her eyes narrowed, mouth a thin line of anger. Just waiting for an excuse... Nathaniel nearly rolled his eyes at that. While he could appreciate caution with a woman that so recently had killed so many Lynn had already made her decision, to disobey, with whatever excuse you might come up with, was childish at best. Still, he was sure Mhairi of all people would embrace her duty. _She'll make a fine watchdog_...

Looking back to his task at hand Nathaniel descended the final step, a shudder running through his spine as he felt the itch grow worse. _There has to be_... He held up a fist, stopping the other's advance, drawing an exasparated sigh from the Dalish. "Patience..." He muttered the word even as he sniffed and dropped low, resting his free hand on the ground. _No vibration, no smell but that strange smell of ash_..._yet_... "Commander, I don't like this."

"What's to like?" Velanna grunted, the Dalish apparently not caring for staying silent despite her status as 'prisoner', nearly making Nathaniel smirk. _Feisty_ _indeed_... "Now let's get going."

"I'd prefer not to rush into anything." Nathaniel replied, shooting the woman a look.

And meeting an arched eyebrow and a snort. "_You're_ a Grey warden? I've found more bravery among birds..."

_Okay, time to make you sit down and shut up_. Nathaniel cocked his head to the side. "At least birds manage to stay alive instead of getting the entire flock killed."

The elf paled, her mouth opening to say something...yet no words came. _Good, own up to your mistakes_... Finally Velanna just looked away, eyes afire with anger as she snorted: "I should have expected something like that from a human..."

Before Nathaniel could rebuff the accusation Lynn brushed past him, voice as cold as ever. "No choice, we continue."

Shooting Velanna a final look, earning him a glare from her, Nathaniel nodded as he moved to follow. "I suppose so Commander, but we really-"

_Danger_!

Nathaniel felt his senses explode in sudden fright, making him jump as the worry smashed into him like a physical blow. "Co-!"

His back was suddenly smashed into the wall as a wind came from nowhere, knocking him off his feet. A second later he fell onto all fours, his breathing laboured as the smell of acrid ash invaded his nose, so intense that he could smell nothing else, _sense_ nothing else...making his vision swim with confusion.

_I_ _don't_...he shook his head and looked up, finding Anders lying prone in front of him, the mage unconscious. Next to him the elf lay, her left arm awkwardly twisted from her fall down the stairs, yet silent as she simply lay there. Further up he saw the Mhairi in the corner of his eyes, the woman draped over the railing to the stairs, her now empty hand limply hanging over it, as if trying to reach the sword down on the floor below. Only Lynn stood, the Commander stumbling sideways, a hand on her head as she looked up at...a shape? _Can't focus_..._can't_... All had turned dark, his vision turning into a hazy tunnel.

_I_ _can't_...

8

8

8

_Hazy_..._grinning_ _face_..._Hurlock_?

Darkness

The ground was cold and unyielding against his back. _Stone_. He blinked, slowly, feeling incredible sluggish, sleepy even...despite the distant ring of alarm within his skull. _Mine_..._danger_..._trap_. He _had_ seen a hurlock hadn't he?

Darkness.

There was dark stone above him, a vaulted ceiling, which was all he could see, Nathaniel unable to turn his head. _Dead_? _No_..._too_ _cold_, _too_ _real_..._sleepy_..._dying_?

Darkness.

A pale and purple face in front of him, eyes hidden by a golden mask as much part of the face as the black crest rising from its top. Human, but not, disfigured, filthy...strange pull..._darkspawn_. _Not_ _hurlock_ _though_..._nor_ _genlock_..._emissary_? Nathaniel's confused thoughts were strangely calm, despite the nearness of the creature leaning over him. _Not dead_..._strange_...

Darkness.

The face was still there, the dark ceiling as well. It's mouth moving, speaking. _Curious_...Nathaniel watched the lips, finding their movement oddly mesmerizing..._so_ _familiar_..._yet_ _not_. "A new warden? The taint is fresh, fascinating." The voice was dry and raspy, sombre...and distant to Nathaniel's weary mind. _Speaking_..._strange_..._and_ _speaking_. Nathaniel had of course been briefed on them having encountered a talking darkspawn...but... _Different_, _different_...

Darkness.

Only dark stone above him. "Failure again, go then, will try again." A small prick at his arm...a strange sensation...a surge...weakness. "Apologies warden, you will live, I hope."

_Hope_?

Darkness.

8

8

8

Light, an amber glow..._lamps_.

Keeping perfectly still Nathaniel kept his eyes as mere slits as he tried to make sense of his position without alerting anyone. _No bow on back_..._sitting_ _position_..._cold_ _iron_ _bars_ _against my_ _back_..._I'm_ _in_ _prison_ _again_? For the briefest of moments he thought he was back at Vigil's Keep, that the whole warden thing had just been a dream. But the small glimpse of his feet splayed in front of him dashed such hopes. The boots he now wore were mouldy and dirt-brown, the ones he had worn in Vigil's Keep had been sturdier and yellow. _Not to mention my trousers didn't have that many holes in them_...Nathaniel dryly noted the small holes in the filthy pair of trousers he now wore, the pair obviously having been eaten through by mould.

_In prison, alive and clothed by my jailers_..._must be temporarily safe then_.

Fully opening his eyes and raising his head Nathaniel found himself meeting Anders' gaze, the mage sitting opposite him in a pair of equally mouldy trousers and tunic. At the sight of him the mage lit up. "Welcome back to the world of the living! Great to be here eh?"

"I suppose." Nathaniel grunted, taking a deep breath and feeling his vision swim as he looked around himself.

The cell they were in was fairly spacious, meant to hold more people then the two now sitting at opposite ends of it among dirt and worn stones. All walls but the one to Nathaniel's right was of steel bars, the one to his left sporting an iron gate decidedly closed. _No lockpicks, not an option_. Behind Anders, Nathaniel saw through the bars another cell, this one inhabited by Lynn, Mhairi and Velanna, all three of the women dressed in similar mould-eaten clothes, all three pale and seated, resting against the walls.

_They're probably as pale as me, interesting_. _I_ _feel_..._dehydrated_, _which means I probably am, as the others no doubt are, but why_? _That_ _emissary_..._if_ _they_ _clothed_ _us_ _surely_ _they_ _would_ _have_...

"Here." Nathaniel barely caught the waterskin as Anders tossed it to him. "Got it from our hosts, behing handed a waterskin by a genlock is a sight I'm telling you..."

"Genlock?" Nathaniel repeated, frowning as he uncorked the skin. "Right, darkspawn." He felt the weight of the waterskin and felt his frown deepen, this time aimed at Anders, making the mage shrug with an awkward smile. After a final glare Nathaniel shrugged. "Guess it's more important you are up to strength then me right now." He took a swig out of the skin, not at all pleased with the taste, nor with how little there was left of it all of a sudden. "Don't do it again though."

"Right, I'll try to remember that the _next_ time we are captured by darkspawn intent on dissecting us. Oh _wait_-"

Ignoring Anders, Nathaniel craned his neck to look over at Lynn: "Commander, did you encounter a talking emissary?"

The elf didn't look back on him, her eyes nearly closed as she sat there. At first he thought her drained to the bone, that with her being so naturally pale...but then he realised she was just resting, gathering strength, as if the imprisonment was nothing but another hurdle. _Never figured her for one of positive thinking_... "Called itself the architect."

"Well I'm not impressed." Anders harrumphed and shot Nathaniel an irritated look before giving the surroundings a derisive snort.

Nathaniel had to agree, the walls were filthy, even outside their cell there were clear signs of a lack of maintenance, greasy walls, dirty floors...an eerie silence of a room where no guards made their rounds. _But then again_... "I doubt he was talking about buildings Anders."

The mage rolled his eyes. "I _know_ that! Must you take things so literally!"

"Should I perhaps just ignore you then?"

"Perhaps _you_ should-"

"Could _you_ should _shut_ _up_!" Velanna suddenly snapped, glaring at the mage through the bars, the woman suddenly on her feet, her hands closed tightly around the bars separating the two cells.

Mhairi shook her head where she sat, not looking at any of them. "I hate to agree with the criminal nut but..."

"And what's with always interrupting me?" Anders whined, making Nathaniel groan. _He's just trying to lighten the mood_..._and_ _Maker I think I hate it_. "I mean-"

"Shut up." Lynn snapped, the elf suddenly on her feet as her narrowed eyes focused on the far end of the room, at the decidedly closed door there. _Someone's_ _coming_? _I_ _can't_ _hear_ _anything_...then Nathaniel felt it also, a strange pull at his chest, pulling towards the other end of the room..._darkspawn_, he knew it without having to think about it. _Darkspawn_...

Anders shook his head as the mage too got to his feet, the others following his example. His words muttered under his breath. "No one ever tells _Nathaniel_ to shut up..."

Ignoring the mage, which was rapidly becoming harder and harder, Nathaniel moved closer to the bars of the cell as he focused on the distant door...only to blink at the sight greeting him when it opened. The gasp of Velanna a distant thing as he tried to make sense of what was approaching them.

The woman was tall for an elf, like Velanna, but with the splintmail armour and thick mane of dirty blond hair covering her ears it was hard to tell if the woman shared any other of Velanna's attributes. Yet there was no doubt that she was the woman's sister, if nothing by virtue of the elf mage's intense and horrified stare.

And there was much to be horrified about. The woman was a ghoul, or at least she looked like one. Nathaniel had read of the state, seen people describe people struck by plagues to be in a similar state...and it took no genius to figure out what the pale white eyes of the woman's spoke of, of what the blackened and sunken cheeks meant, what the dark blue veins covering her pale face meant. She was sick, diseased, _tainted_...the pull at his chest demanding of him to put an arrow through her skull.

But he had no weapons, could do nothing...and even if he _could_ he would have held back, the spark of intelligence in those milky eyes of the woman not something to end so unthinkingly. No, _think_, _then_ act. As he watched he saw the woman's pale face twist into a grin, a macabre twist of a real smile, ruined by sharp and yellowing fangs now covering the inside of otherwise soft but blue lips. A real honest _smile_...and terrifying because of it. "Sister, it is good to see you." The voice was soft, reminding Nathaniel of Velanna's own, but raspy, as if she hadn't drunk anything for a long time.

Velanna pressed up against the bars, eyes large, lower lip trembling. "Se-Seranni?" Her question was low, whispered...and Nathaniel couldn't blame her. _How would I react if I saw Delilah like this_? _Poor_ _woman_... He shook such useless sympathy aside and inched closer, listening in.

"You came for me." The smile weakened, but remained, as the blighted elf stepped closer, close enough to wrap her hands around the bars separating her from her sister, the voice softened even further, coloured with sadness. "You shouldn't have."

"What? I couldn't just-"

"Sister, sister..." Seranni shook her head, the pale skin around her milky eyes twisting into a smile even as her lips turned into a sad frown. "...always first to act...never to think."

Velanna visibly swallowed, her head dropping low as she squeezed her eyes shut. "This isn't about-"

"It's okay." The blighted elf spoke softly, inching closer, her smile sad as she too bowed her head, pressing her forehead against that of Velanna's. "I _always_ liked that, despite what the others said...and it lead to good, this is _good_ sister..."

"Good?" Velanna rasped, shoulders visibly shaking as she kept her eyes shut. "You are not thinking clearly? I must help you, _please_, let me-"

A small chuckle escaped the other elf. "Please? You never say please unless you're frightened...don't be." A hand reached out through the bars, pale and vein-covered hand closing digging into Velanna's hair as the blighted sister smiled. "All has worked out for the best...I see that now."

Nathaniel found himself looking away, suddenly feeling like an intruder. A quick glance told him the others had followed suit, all but Lynn who calmly regarded the exchange with narrowed eyes, head cocked. "But we have to..."

"He has plans for us, a _good_ plan..." Seranni's whisper seemed to echo in the room, making Nathaniel shiver. "...no more hiding, no more fighting with humans...all...as one...can you _imagine_ that sister? Peace...no more being hunted for who we are, no more fear..._peace_." Then the voice changed, coloured by concern. "But...you shouldn't be here. H-he doesn't think like us...he doesn't...fully understand us...I-I can't let you die."

A jingling made Nathaniel look back, finding the blighted elf having taken a step back, her right hand raised, holding up a ring full with keys. The milky eyes were calm, her lips smiling, but it was a sad smile, a false calm... "You must leave, through the tunnels...it's not far if you hurry."

Velanna visibly flinched, eyes wide with realisation even as she with trembling lips spoke the question she already knew the answer to: "B-but what about-"

Seranni's blighted features twisted into a horrible mirror of a sweet smile. "I will not come with you, even if I _wanted_ to...I cannot."

Nathaniel nodded, what chance did a ghoul, even a thinking one, have on the surface? None. He lowered his head, sighing heavily, what chance did _any_ pariah have on the surface? But to have to watch helplessly as someone you loved was made a pariah...to have to endure them slipping away from you...that had to be worse.

A glance at Velanna confirmed it, the horror on her face, the sudden crumpling of her decisiveness, the fire in her eyes extinguished as if it had been nothing but a fluttering candle.

Then the fire returned, a blaze, narrowed eyes glaring at the other elf as Velanna pressed up against the bars, teeth bared in a snarl. "_No_! I will _not_ accept that! You are coming with me! And that's _final_!"

A small chuckle, Seranni's lips twisting into an amused smile. "Always so stubborn..." A final long look...and the elf turned to look at him, her milky eyes surprisingly kind. "Here." The keys flew through the bars...and he caught them, blinking in surprise at the heavy weight suddenly in his hands. "Don't be afraid to drag her with you, she'll see sense in a while."

With that the blighted elf blinked, a small sniffle escaping her...before she turned and began to run.

"Seranni!" Velanna crashed into the bars, hands reaching out after the woman, eyes wide.

But the other elf didn't turn, nor did she look back, instead the door crashed shut behind her.

Silence.

Velanna's hands slowly dropping, her head hanging low, her shoulders visibly shaking...before finally dropping low. An air of defeat heavy around her as her family disappeared. Nathaniel felt his own shoulders slump at that, he felt as if he should say something, but remembered his own realisation his family was gone all too well, comforting words hadn't helped. _Your_ _family_..._I_..._there's_ _nothing_ _to_ _say_.

_Defeat_.

Then she straightened, her eyes shooting daggers as she glared at him. "Why are you _standing_ there you fool! Open the cell so we can go after her!"

_Or maybe not_...

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the praise._


	13. Chapter 13

The cave shook violently.

Dust everywhere, pebbles raining over him.

And light...lots of light. First sharp white, burning into his retinas, then heated amber...the heat of it washing over him, making him stagger, then glowing red...sizzling dots of it covering the ground where the ashen remains of the many darkspawn lay.

And through it Velanna stalked, her staff still covered in the gore from the unholy creature she had torn it from, the woman having used the frail wood to smash the oddly similar creature's face apart in a surprisingly vicious bout of brutality for someone able to use magic. The woman's tight robe fluttered behind her as the air was sucked back into where her fireball had struck, making the rogue strands of her hair fly. The bright grey eyes shone with rage, uncaring of the exhaustion she _must_ feel, her steps slow and long, that of a predator closing in on its prey.

Velanna didn't notice any of it, her staff raised and already moving to cast another spell.

Shaking his head Nathaniel couldn't help but wonder if there was a correlation between moods and spells. He'd seen Anders throw fireballs...yet they hadn't looked _nearly_ as brutal or intense as Velanna's, as if her anger somehow was furnishing the fiery destruction she so carelessly threw around.

Careless was the word, Nathaniel shot the ceiling a worried look. So far it had held, despite the stonework being beyond ancient as well as Velanna's spells tearing every chamber they so far had encountered apart. _Can't blame her though_. He grunted as he drew the crude darkspawn bow he had acquired and cleanly placed an equally crude arrow through the throat of a genlock about to pounce onto the back of the unaware elf. _If Delilah was still alive and here_..._would I not do the same_? _Still_... "Slow down before you get yourself killed!"

The elf didn't heed him, making Nathaniel snort. _Of_ _course_ _not_. Instead she brought her staff down onto the ground, making a hurlock charging at her arch its back as its feet rose from the ground, a strangled cry escaping it as its bones loudly begun to snap. Another hurlock rushed past the one slowly being crushed by unseen magic, only to be bowled over as Mhairi crashed into it, her sword dutifully skewering it even as she shot the elf mage a glare.

Again the elf didn't react, not even noticing the knight as she stalked forth. _Shouldn't she be exhausted from casting so fast_? _Not_ _to_ _mention_ _she_ _was_ _already_ _weary_ _before_ _the_ _battle_... Velanna showed no signs of slowing though as her staff stabbed forth, releasing an arc of purple lightning at a genlock archer further off, making the howling monster double over, smoke rising from its scorched chest.

Nathaniel dutifully finished the creature off with another shot even as he watched Anders appear from behind a boulder to Nathaniel's right, black blood _covering_ the front of the mage's robe...some of which he tried to brush off with a grimace. "Note to self, don't cast such spells in close encounters..." Looking up he smirked at Nathaniel's quizzing look. "Popping darkspawn is fun, but Maker it's bad for the laundry..." A glance at the fiery destruction he had missed and the smirk turned into a grin: "Whoa! Another note to self, don't anger the Dalish."

Nathaniel sighed even as he sighted down the newly notched arrow, sighting another genlock archer. _Far_ _away_, _obscured_, _partial_ _hit_ _and_ _follow_ _through_... The arrow smashed into the genlock's right shoulder, making it spin into clear sight just as he notched the next arrow...which smashed into the back of the creature's head with an audible crunch, sending goblets of its blackened brain flying as the tip of the arrow pushed out through the front of its head. "_That_ is a good rule to have towards anyone."

"Perhaps." Anders chuckled as he stepped closer, grinning mischievously. "But I like to keep things realistic." With that he raised his staff...and Nathaniel felt a small heat emanate from the man even as he called out. "Here you go _honey_!"

A moment later Mhairi's sword was covered in ethereal flames, the woman shooting him an incredulous look, then turning back with a low muttering as she marched with Velanna. Her fiery sword slashed left and right, gutting member after member of the oncoming horde as a stream of fire left Velanna's staff and washed over them, blinding and setting them afire, leaving them easy targets for Mhairi's tireless slashes.

"Funny." Nathaniel dryly noted, sighed and notched another arrow...before shooting it just above Velanna's head and catching a darkspawn with a massive two handed sword in its hands just above its breastplate, drawing a gasp from it as it fell from the boulder it had stood on. "You two are perfect for one another." _An idiot and a fool_.

"I have a feeling that was an insult." Anders chuckled, watching as the horde before Velanna and Mhairi was turned to ashes and burnt organs by the pair. _How many of these hordes have we fought so far_? Nathaniel wasn't sure, his head heavy from dehydration. All he knew was that they so far had reclaimed the weapons and armour for all but _him_...and he felt the loss of his family bow keenly._ Surely it's around_... "Hey, where's Lynn anyway?"

Nathaniel frowned, in the chaos of explosions and the snipping with the inferior bow of his he had lost her...and the heavy head of his didn't help things either. _Still, it's unforgivable to lose sight of the Commander_... "Perhaps she-"

Danger!

Nathaniel found himself shoving Anders out of the way, the sudden punch in his gut along with the _lack_ of pain telling him he'd been hit by something. _Probably_ _an_ _arrow_. Lying on his side Nathaniel reached down, feeling slick blood and a wooden shaft buried into his gut. _Yes, and at any moment_...

Pain!

Nathaniel gasped, his lungs emptying as the white pain rolled over him, making him twitch where he lay, forcing him to bite down as he let the pain roll off him. _There it is_..._I_ _hate_ _pain_.

Grunting he tried to inch backwards, wide eyes watching as Mhairi and even Velanna ducked away, the pair pressing up against the uneven walls in an effort to avoid the sudden rain of arrows from the line of archers having arrived atop a ridge ahead of them. _Isn't that_...Nathaniel found a pained growl escape him as he saw the _creature_, a twisted mirror of himself, dressed in _his_ leather armour, using _his_ bow...and leading the half a dozen hurlock archers atop the ridge in raining death upon the group, pinning them.

_Safety_, _healing_, _then_ _retrieval_. Rolling sideways Nathaniel ignored the spike of pain as best he could as the arrow in his gut snapped under him. _Safety_, _then_ _healing_. He gritted his teeth, feeling cold sweet cover him as the arrow dug deeper into him and twisted into the wound. _Safety_... As if to punctuate his need an arrow smashed into the ground next to him, making him roll faster to get to the side of the corridor. _Safe_, _now_..._h_... He shook his head, feeling groggy beyond words, realising he was close to unconsciousness. Another shake of his head pushed it back. _Not_ _yet_, _focus_...

Looking past the annoyingly low boulder, not nearly enough for him to duck properly behind, but what he had to settle for since he didn't trust himself to move behind better cover.

The hurlocks, led by his double stood confident as they loosed arrow after arrow over the group pressing up against the walls. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so considering how brutal she'd been so far, Velanna was the one who...despite her lack of armour, or nearly clothing...was the one obviously trying to return the favour... Yet she couldn't get into position to cast a spell with the disgusting version of Nathaniel carefully loosing arrow after arrow towards her and her minimal cover, many of the sharp missiles grazing the elf, merely making her growl in anger.

Then Nathaniel pulled the arrow free from his body, having not even been aware that his arms had moved to do so he arched his back and cried out, the pain lancing through him a welcome one. It meant the arrow was gone, and that...Nathaniel sighed as the healing magic cast by prone Anders washed over him, clearing the fog of his mind. _Safe_, _healed_..._now_ _for_ _retrieval_..._where's_ _my_ _bow_?

Before he could locate the weapon a blur passed by him though, a _golden_ blur.

Lynn was nearly horizontal as she rushed forth, her weapons held low, turning her into a living missile hurling itself at the archers. _Is she cra_-

Seven arrows flew at her, only to hit the ground as the elf _flowed_ to the left, as if she had changed into animated water, not breaking her stride during her run. Another seven and she continued to run while seamlessly flowing to the right...one of the arrows bouncing off her shoulder guard, another off her helmet. A third volley of seven arrows, all widely missing their mark as the elf threw herself forward, rolling onto her feet in one seamless movement.

Then she _leapt_, clearing the final distance in the blink of an eye, her left foot landing atop the inclined edged of the ridge, her body falling backwards..._Good try though_...only for the woman to stop the fall by smashing her axe into the side of the closest hurlock. A howl escaped the creature even as Lynn pulled herself onto the ridge, the axe dug into the flank of the creature pulling it off the ridge.

It didn't raise it hands to stop its fall as it crashed into the ground.

Then there was a whirlwind of swinging weapons...and the two closest hurlocks fell, pieces of them crashing to the ground as they were torn asunder.

Nathaniel's tainted copy pulled back even as the three hurlocks rushed forth, curved swords of blackened iron swinging after the elf...who once more flowed aside, a darting sword cutting the jugular of one of them while her axe cut off the jaw of a second. The third shoved its dying comrade aside and tried to reach her...only to be skewered upon her sword in its foolish eagerness to reach her.

Nathaniel's tainted version notched an arrow...and _couldn't _miss.

Yet it _did_. The arrow thudding into the back of the skewered hurlock Lynn had somehow managed to pull in between the two.

A second later the hurlock was thrown aside, a kick sending the bow flying out of the creature's hand even as Lynn closed the distance. One moment she was hiding behind the corpse of the hurlock, the next she was pressed up against Nathaniel's twisted image, her sword stabbed through its abdomen, drawing a strangled grunt from it.

With a strange sense of sick fascination Nathaniel watched as the elf pulled her weapon to the right, slicing the creature's gut open, making blackened organs pour out of the wound. _Maybe it was good I never tried taking a shot at her_...

With a shrug the elf shoved the now limp creature down over the edge of the ridge and looked down at him as he and the others slowly appeared from cover. The dead eyes bore into him, making him avert his gaze. "Get your equipment, fast."

He managed a short nod. "Y-yes Commander."

"Where were you?" Velanna's question echoed across the hall, making everyone flinch as they looked up at Lynn. To question the Commander was already a gamble...and for the _prisoner_ to do so..._suicidal_. But Nathaniel had to admit he was curious himself, she had somehow disappeared after the last crossing, seemingly sneaking off...which seemed oddly out of character for her. _Still, I would have held the question for a while_..._that_ _was_ _bold_. He shot their 'prisoner' a look, finding the woman glaring at Lynn, the Dalish's obvious anger keeping the dread the mage no doubt felt at meeting Lynn's cold gaze under control.

"I was..." The Commander suddenly averted her gaze, making Nathaniel blink._ Did she just_...? "...recovering something." The elf sheathed her weapons, a hand coming down to retrieve a small item from a pouch by her waist...a small silver band. The elf regarded the metal coldly, yet not _as_ coldly as Nathaniel had expected, almost a hint of..._something_ in those dead eyes of hers. "The Orlesian wardens from Vigil's Keep were brought here." She closed her fist around the band, shrugging. "The last one died moments ago, he bled to death."

Nathaniel shuddered, glancing back. _And he gave her his wedding band_? _Poor_ _man_..._to die without even a goodbye, to not kn_-

A small tapping sound and Nathaniel turned to see the elf drop the silver ring to the ground, already turning to walk away.

"What are you doing!" Mhairi cried out, paling as she stared at the ring. "You _have_ to take it to his wife! Didn't he ask this from you!"

"Yes." Lynn shrugged and continued to move. "But he's dead now, he got what he wanted."

"No he didn't! You're tak-"

Mhairi's words died as the elf whirled about, a flash of anger in her otherwise cold eyes. "He wanted to die knowing his wife would get his ring! He _did_!" Nathaniel blinked, despite the woman's eyes being dead she was a suddenly..._animated_. "Giving her the ring will not help him now!"

Mhairi hesitated, the woman looking down at her feet, yet she continued: "But surely you should give-"

"I _am_ giving her something." Lynn snapped, the elf turning away to continue her march.

Nathaniel nearly didn't hear her voice as she muttered the words under her breath.

"_Hope_."

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, as always._


	14. Chapter 14

Nathaniel had once seen a drake.

It had been far away, almost looking like a bird as it soared over a distant mountain.

_They're bigger up close_. Diving under the sweeping claws of the small dragon Nathaniel bit down a curse._ I __never__ want to meet a high dragon up close if __this__ is supposed to be a small one_. Even as he straightened he watched the creature swing around the large hall they had entered, its red scales looking like liquid fire as they reflected the light from the sparse lamps covering the walls.

With a loud crash it landed on the ground, next to its now decidedly dead kin, its long neck leaning forth as it growled at a calm Lynn tearing her weapons out of the dead dragon she had practically wrestled to the ground with the aid of a still panting Mhairi.

The next moment Nathaniel's arrow thudded into its leg...not even enough to draw its attention. _Eyes it is_. Before Nathaniel could take aim the ground under the creature heaved. The flat stones of the floor breaking apart as thick roots of dark wood came rushing up. Wrapping themselves around the creature's four legs and even going so far as to close around its torso.

A rumbling hiss escaped the dragon as it tugged at the roots, only for the strange bindings to tighten around its limbs, pinning it to the ground. Nathaniel shot Velanna a look, finding the Dalish mage stalking forth, her eyes a strange hue of glowing green as she held her staff raised above her head. _Huh_..._neat_ _trick_... He shook his head and focused back on the dragon. _Better_ _make_ _the_ _most_ _of_ _it_.

Before he could use the opportunity offered crackling lightning struck the creature, Anders advancing with his staff levelled, the tip shooting a dozen bolts of continuing rays of energy over the dragon, making its scales sizzle as a high pitched shriek escaped it.

It didn't die.

Grunting Nathaniel notched another arrow and pulled the string back behind his ear, eyes narrowing as he watched the creature swing its head back and forth in agony, its body slowly tearing it free from the snug fit of the roots closed around it. _Left_, _right_, _left_, _right_..._loose_!

The arrow struck the creature's right eye in an explosion of gore, turning the shrieking into a shrill cry as its legs finally tore themselves free from the roots covering them. Yet it didn't die, the head twisting and turning as it tried to get shake itself free of the arrow stuck in its ruined eye, its shrill cry making Nathaniel stagger back in pain.

Then Mhairi was there, her shield swinging about...and striking the end of the arrow head on...driving it deep into the creature's skull.

A shudder...and the creature collapsed.

Panting Nathaniel heard the mages next to him do the same, both exhausted from the many spells they had cast. _Personally I'm surprised the Dalish isn't unconscious._.._she's cast twice as many spells as Anders_... Mhairi was in better shape, the intense pace of fighting better suited for her apparently...which the small grin on her lips as she kicked the head of the dragon showed. _Ah_, _bet_ _you_ _think_ _yourself_ _as a_ _dragon_ _slayer_ _now_...Nathaniel shook his head as he searched for Lynn.

The Commander had already moved on, having apparently had confidence in their ability to finish off the monster. _How kind of her_... Nathaniel had no time to roll his eyes at the Commander's behaviour though as he saw what she was moving _towards_.

Velanna spotted them too, her panting becoming hitched as she began to run, exhaustion once more forgotten. Grunting Nathaniel moved to follow, pushing his growing light-headedness aside with an effort of will as he heard the other two scramble to catch up. "Seranni!"

The blighted elf stood at the very far end of the large hall, face sad and downcast as she pressed her hands together close to her lap, looking like a scolded child despite her ghoulish features. And to her right...the pale purple face of the emissary was all too familiar, making Nathaniel shudder. The man..._creature_...towered over the elf, taller then even a hurlock, tall and spindly built, as if sick. It was dressed in a long and purple robe that looked worn beyond years, a gnarled black staff in its right hand as the left was drapped over the shoulders of the elf, as if supporting her.

It was an eerily human gesture.

"Seranni!" Velanna's cry echoed over the hall as the Dalish ran forth, only to come to a stumbling halt as her sister raised her head, the milky eyes shinning with yet unshed tears.

"You will die." Lynn didn't stop, her weapons drawn as she advanced upon the pair, apparently unfazed by the crying ghoul as well as by the staff held by the tall and spindly emissary. _Should I even be surprised_?

"I do not desire a battle at this time." The emissary replied, its voice slow and strangely smooth, giving the impression that each word was weighted and measured before being allowed to leave its lips. "Neither should you."

The elf didn't slow, steps fast and measured as she closed the distance. "Your wishes mean nothing."

"Very well." The emissary waved his staff, the grip on the shoulders of the blighted elf tightening...and suddenly the pair begun to fade.

"_Seranni_!" Velanna repeated, the Dalish once more animated as she rushed forth.

The blighted elf only shook her head, a transparent tear running down a fading cheek...and then she was gone.

Leaving Velanna to stumble to a stop, her staff falling from limp fingers. "S-seranni?" Her voice was soft, confused..._pained_. "Seranni..."

Slowly, meekly...the elf slipped to her knees. _Spent_.

Silence.

Nathaniel grimaced, but didn't know what to say, what _could_ he say to someone whose sister had just chosen to leave her for a monster? Anders didn't seem all that happy either, the mage silently sighing where he stood, watching the elf with sympathy in his eyes. Mhairi on the other hand seemed torn, the woman smirking slightly at the pain inflicted upon the criminal, yet her eyes were conflicted, remembering what it was like to lose someone.

Only Lynn seemed unfazed, the elf having turned to look down at the Dalish, her weapons sheathed as with a cocked head and crossed arms she regarded the other woman. Nathaniel felt disgust well up within him at the sight, there was..._something_ in the Commander's eyes, cold calculation. _She_ _planned_ _this_..._Maker_... Nathaniel felt a shiver run up his spine.

"She is not dead." The Dalish didn't react to Lynn's words, the Commander's words slow and measured, intent on penetrating the haze of grief of the other woman. "She is alive somewhere, as a darkspawn." The elf shuddered at Lynn's words, but said nothing. "Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn." A flinch, life. "_Find_ them."

Velanna shot to her feet, the elf all fire and decisiveness again, despite the slight shaking of her shoulders. "They can!" The words were hissed as a bony hand shot out to steady the Dalish against Lynn's shoulder, revealing just how tired the constant spell-casting had made the elf. "Please, anything...make me one!"

Lynn's eyes were dead, yet Nathaniel could feel the _victory_ behind them, the knowledge that she had twisted the situation to her own ends, fooled another into her growing army...and it disgusted him. She held Velanna's gaze though, not noticing his grimace. "You have to obey my orders."

Mhairi's gasp of disbelief was barely audible over Velanna's intense hiss: "Done."

"You have to defend both elves _and_ humans."

"Done!" Velanna's hiss turned into a growl, the hand on Lynn's shoulder tightening its grip as she visibly swayed where she stood.

Lynn's cocked her head further to the side, eyes narrowing. "Your life as a Dalish will be over."

"D..." The woman finally hesitated, her head dropping as the hand not gripping Lynn's shoulder rubbed her temple. She swayed back and forth even more now, a tree about to fall. "...done...just...I must find her..."

Nathaniel swallowed, sudden shame washing over him. Shame of being a warden, of Lynn being his Commander and tricking the Dalish...of never having done such a thing for his now dead family.

Lynn merely nodded. "Then this is your punishment for slaying those merchants." Mhairi gasped, but Anders hand on her shoulder stopped her from crying out in protest. "You will become a warden."

Velanna looked up at Lynn, both hands suddenly on the shorter elf's shoulders as she stared at her Commander, her voice but a hiss. "Then it is done..."

She fell, crumpling into a pile, eyes closing as unconsciousness took her.

Silence.

Nathaniel moved, walking over to the unconscious woman he scooped her up into his arms, the elf weighing no more then a feather, despite Nathaniel's weariness. Even unconscious there was a..._harshness_ to her face, as if she was glaring at her dreams. Nathaniel sighed and turned his head to look over at Lynn, to shoot her a glare.

But the Commander had already turned to move on, uncaring of her deed, of her crime.

Nathaniel sighed and looked back at the unconscious woman, another sigh escaping him as he saw how pale she had gotten, the woman having driven herself to the point of no return...and Lynn having pushed her over. "I'm sorry..."

8

8

8

Not a word had been spoken on their journey back to Vigil's Keep, all lost in their own thoughts.

Mhairi had of course spent most of the journey either glaring at Lynn's back...or at Velanna, whether the elf had her back turned or not. Apparently the knight was once again mounting her high horse when it came to standards...Nathaniel had chosen not to comment though, knowing the situation was volatile enough as it was.

Lynn was of course silent, and so had Anders been for some reason, the mage apparently not so oblivious as to wish to disturb the others. Though he had opened his mouth to speak a couple of times, a joke no doubt on his lips...he had held his tongue, shooting the women of the group short glances.

Velanna had so far not looked the least hesitant about her choice, the colour having quickly returned to her cheeks once she had gotten some food and drink into her. Her eyes distant, deep in thoughts as she nibbled upon whatever she was given to eat, reminding Nathaniel of a squirrel.

But there had not been any doubts in those bright grey eyes of hers, no second guessing. Not even when hearing that the joining might kill her, not even when they brought her into a castle full of humans, not now...with the final words spoken.

"And that one day...we shall join you." Lynn stepped forth, offering the chalice of darkspawn blood.

With a snort the other elf snatched the chalice, holding it in both hands she scowled down at the dark blood...or perhaps her own reflection?

Another snort and the elf snarled at it: "As it must be."

She brought the chalice to her lips in one swift move, emptying half of it, her throat bobbing as she struggled to drink the harsh liquid.

Then she returned the chalice to Lynn, her angular face twisting into a scowl. "_Filthy_ drink, and I don't fe-" She blinked, making Nathaniel grimace as he dutifully watched the proceedings. "Feel any...di-" She shook her head, taking a step back as both hands reached up towards her forehead...

Only to limply drop to her sides as the elf's eyes rolled back...before the woman herself fell backwards, crashing onto the floor._ Really ought to have someone stand ready to catch people_... Nathaniel dryly noted even as he with a quick glance made sure that indeed the elf was still alive and breathing.

"This wasn't her choice, not truly." He felt he had to say it, if nothing else to ease his own mind. _I was conscripted, sure, but __this_..._this was blatant trickery_.

"It was either this or her death." Lynn growled back, putting the chalice aside as she gestured for the unconscious woman. "Take her to a room, guard her, I have nobles to attend to."

Nathaniel looked down at the Dalish, the woman's face twisting into a grimace as she dreamt the nightmare he knew she must have. _I_..._yes_..._and the nobles would be uncomfortable with me around anyway_... "That still does not make it right..." He sighed and looked over at Lynn, forcing himself to meet her dead eyes. "Then again, life isn't fair."

Lynn nodded slowly, then brushed past him as she stalked to meet the assembling nobles of the land.

Sighing Nathaniel moved to once more carry the elf, his heart heavy.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for saving me here._


	15. Chapter 15

Fire.

Screams

Dark creatures.

Torn limbs.

It was all a haze, everything sweeping past her too fast for her to focus, to make out details, yet it seared her soul, _hurt_ her.

Pain.

Screams.

Accusations.

Blame

Slaughtered elves.

_Her_ fault.

And Seranni, her sweet Seranni...

_Smiling_.

8

8

8

Velanna cried out as she sat up.

Or rather, she _tried_ to, but there was nothing in her lungs and she found herself choking as she struggled for air while simultaneously trying to scream. Her left hand came up, only to get caught in a white sheet covering her, the thin cloth clinging to where her skin was bare, her cold sweat soaking it. She was in a bed, that much was clear, far softer then what she was used to...at camp.

_Camp_..._this isn't camp, this is that filthy thing of stone_..._I_ _came_ _here_ _to_..._to_... She shuddered.

_Yet_..._I'm_..._alive_? She frowned, confused, her eyes yet unable to see past those grinning fangs of _her_...of her sister. _I'm_ _alive_...she grimaced at the jab of guilt at her heart even as she tried to take a deep breath...it ended with a cough, her throat dry as parchment. With her left hand still tangled in the sheets she managed to pull her right out, the sweaty limb coming up to push a rogue strand of hair behind her ear before she reached down to rub her sore throat. _What_ _had I_..._?_

Dark hordes, filthy monsters, dying people, mistakes, wrongs...her fault.

Suddenly cold Velanna shivered, then shook her head. _No, don't think about it_.

"Ah, you're awake." The voice was low, confident._ Him, the_ _hunter_. Blinking once more Velanna turned her head, her eyes finally focused on the surroundings and not the residues of her shameful dreams.

The room was _tiny_, making Velanna grimace, glancing at the far too close stacks of flat stones, ready to crush her under their weight at any moment, it wasn't at all helped by the wooden ceiling above her. _How can wood hold the stone above from crashing through_? She didn't whimper though, nor shudder, remembering the human in her room. _By_ _the_ _gods_..._he_ _must_ _have_ _seen_... Velanna grimaced and pulled her legs up, her left hand pulling the sheets closer to her chest as she realised just how vulnerable she'd been.

At the opposite end of the room, which she could easily cross in a mere dozen steps, there was a door, _closed_. _Probably_ _locked_ _too_...Velanna eyed the rest of the surroundings, noting the many tapestries covering the walls, all depicting some sort of foliage and forests, as if taunting her with what she had lost. There was a large rug covering most of the floor, a few foreign-looking furnitures of wood placed against the wall, one of them sporting the _largest_ mirror Velanna had _ever_ seen. She ignored it though, as she did everything else, and instead focused on the man that was sitting so uncomfortable close.

Sitting in a rocking chair three feet from her bed the man had one leg over the other, a book resting atop them as he with careful movements flipped the page on the leather bound book. Still dressed in his neatly patched leather armour the man had obviously barely dusted off the travelling dust, the smell of dirt and grass heavy around him. _Typical of a filthy human I suppose_...Velanna chose not to think of how _she_ smelled, _she_ had an excuse after all.

Then he moved, making her flinch, despite her efforts.

The man pretended not to notice though, making her grit her teeth in irritation as she watched his hand reach out to a small table between the two, grasping a hold of a large wooden mug before offering it at her, his eyes never leaving the book. "Here, drink."

At first she had a barbed response on her tongue. Who was _he_ to order _her_ around? Did he think they had now tamed her and made her into another flat ear?

But she was too _thirsty_, her throat demanding something to soothe its rawness, so she took the mug, surprised by its size, but then grateful as she brought it to her lips and begun to drink, well aware that she would empty it soon enough. "I was parched too after my joining." The man pointed out, tone neutral._ Trying to lull me into a false sense of security are you_? Velanna couldn't answer though, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the surprisingly cool water soothing her raw throat. "And I wouldn't get out of bed in a while, my legs gave in the first time I tried."

_Is_ _that_ _a_ _joke_? _No_..._he_ _hasn't_ _struck_ _me_ _as_ _a_ _joker_. _Maybe an attempt to bind me with those bonds of 'friendship' that then turns the elf to servitude_? She opened an eye and shot the man a glance as she drank. She found him still reading that book, not even looking at her, face neutral, that of a man simply stating facts, without embarrassment nor ulterior motives. _Either he's a very good bluffer or he's_..._feeling sorry for me_? Velanna found herself scowling even as she finished the mug and placing it back on the table. "I don't need favours." With her throat still raw she croaked the words.

"I gathered." The man dryly remarked, carefully flipping the page, _still_ not looking at her...Velanna didn't know if she was to feel insulted or grateful. She was all too aware that she was slick with cold sweat and that her breathing and eyes still betrayed some of her lingering fear of the dream. Yet he _knew_ that already and _didn't_ look, and she did _not_ want any favours from the likes of _him_.

"And I don't owe you anything for that." She made a small gesture for the mug, irritated with how much she had enjoyed its content.

"For water?" The man arched an eyebrow, his gaze still not leaving the book. "Of course not, that would be silly."

Velanna growled as she kicked at the sheets still clinging to her, irritated with feeling her legs grow weary with such a minor movement. _He has to be right too_..._gods_ _I_ _hate_ _this_... "So now I'm silly am I!"

The man flipped the page, not the least affected by the hostility in her voice. "I didn't say that."

_Well_..._no_... Velanna glared at the man, his calm rubbing her wrong, the way he didn't seem to try _anything_ putting her mind on alert... She was vulnerable, weak, elven...the fact that there was no attack, no leer, not even any _hostility_...made her worried. It was like waiting for the storm that just wouldn't show up...she _hated_ that. "So what _are_ you saying?"

The man shrugged, flipping the page once more. "That you don't owe me anything."

"And?"

"And nothing." The man replied, apparently set on making things difficult for her, the worst part being that he actually didn't seem to think about it, it was just..._him_. "You want something to eat?"

Velanna's stomach rolled at that, a mix of hunger and revulsion at the thought of eating. _Later_..._gods I have to eat human food don't I_? _Yes_..._later_ _then_. _Still_... "You are allowed to leave? You're not my guard?" She prodded, narrowed eyes darting between glaring at the man and the closed door at the other end of the room.

"I was told to guard you..." _Aha_! "...but it's not like that." Velanna found herself blinking. Despite the man still reading she had the odd feeling that he was reading _her_ _face_ at the same time...she didn't like that. "I'm here to attend to you until you've recovered." He shrugged again even as he flipped the page of the book. "Now, do you want food?"

"I want nothing from you." Velanna snorted, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them, feeling painfully weak...exposed.

And irritated with the human that apparently wasn't even _considering_ taking advantage. "As you wish." Another shrug, another flip of the page, the man not looking the least offended.

Silence.

Another flipped page.

Silence.

The man smiling faintly at something he read before flipping the page once more.

Silence.

"Are you just going to _sit_ there!" The words left her lips involuntarily, the silence too hard on her already tense nerves.

"What else should I be doing?" The man asked, unfazed by her growl.

_I_..._don't_ _rightly_ _know_. Velanna shook her head, a hand darting up to run through her damp hair. "Don't you have something more _important_ to do! Or are you trying to become my friend or something equally foolish!"

The man lifted a hand off the book, raising his index finger even as he continued reading that cursed book of his. "No." A second finger shot up. "And we are allies, not friends, I don't expect, nor am I trying, anything."

_And it's driving me insane_... "Allies of convenience..." Velanna muttered, glaring at the human walls, at the human things, at the human... All was alien and..._dammit_...intimidating.

"The best kind." The man replied, sounding annoyingly honest as he continued his reading. _Is he just trying to fool me_? _What_ _is_ _his_ _game_? _What_ _is_ _he_ _trying_ _to_ _accomplish_?

_At least he's not that fool of a mage_... She could identify with the man sitting next to her. He was a hunter, she had seen it in his walk, the way he held his bow, the way he looked at the surroundings...he moved like the Dalish hunters...and she could understand the honesty behind such a way. It was predatory and stealthy yes...but honest, the intention clear. So despite being a human the man at least had _something_ she could understand...however much she despised that fact. _Still_... "Of course _you_ would say that, humans never understands the value of _trust_, they know only treachery."

The man visibly paused in his readings, his eyes looking past the book. _Ha, there we go, now that façade of yours will fall_. Then he smiled, a faint, miniscule smile, barely visible to any but the observant. _What_? "Ah, you're being defensive." _I am n-_! "Lashing out." The human smoothly got to his feet as he bowed his head. "Apologies, my presence must make you nervous in your present state."

_I_..._you_..._what_! Velanna blinked, feeling numb at the words striking so embarrassingly true.

"I will send someone with some food later." Another small bow of his head...and then the man crossed the room, opened the decidedly unlocked door...and disappeared.

And then she was alone, for which she was grateful for...which in turn _annoyed_ her.

Hugging her legs tighter she shook her head and glared at the sheets clinging to her. "Bloody humans..."

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her tireless efforts._


	16. Chapter 16

Ignoring the memories was hard.

Only four years ago he had stood at that very spot, under the shade of the outer defensive wall, loosening arrow after arrow into the distant targets. The only difference now was his height...and the lack of effort into putting the arrows around the centre of the targets. _No_, _not_ _only_ _that_. He glanced up at the banners flying high at the gatehouse, the banner of the Grey Wardens. Then down at his hands, worn and rough from his years in the wild, scarred.

_All things must change I suppose_.

He had spotted a couple of the lords of the land as they had left the keep, muttering about their new overlord with a mixture of fear and annoyance. Apparently the Commander had been her usual diplomatic self, staring the lords down as she demanded higher taxes, more men and a more active defence of lords already straining under the pressure of the darkspawn. There had been no allowance for weakness, as expected. The choice of defending the farmlands with the soldiers was also a topic, making the majority of the lords happy while the usual faction living close to Amaranthine bemoaned their lack of protection. Nathaniel had a sneaky suspicion Lynn had simply chosen to defend the farmlands so as to more proactively combat the darkspawn, then any desire to protect the farmers...but who was he to argue?

None of the nobles had seen him, which was just as well.

Sighing he reached back and drew a fresh arrow, notched it...and placed it half a palm beneath the dead centre of the distant target. _Ah_, _the_ _steel_ _is_ _heavier_ _here_ _then_ _in_ _the_ _free_ _marches_. Nathaniel shrugged and glanced over at the courtyard.

It wasn't as he remembered it, it was smaller, dirtier, even the grass fields seemed less green then as he remembered it, less cheerful, simple killing fields for any attackers trying to cross them. _Or_ _perhaps_ _it's_ _all_ _an_ _illusion_? _Perhaps my perception of it all has simply changed_? It was a sobering thought, shaking it aside Nathaniel's gaze wandered to the other two junior wardens.

Anders and Mhairi was sitting on the gentle set of stairs leading up to the inner gatehouse, both sitting on the same step, head bowed low as they spoke in confiding whispers.

_Cute_. Nathaniel nearly scoffed, wondering when the two had suddenly gotten so close, or rather...where Anders teasing smirk had disappeared to, the small smile on his lips at the moment seemed so...genuine. _At least this means both will be less likely to bother me_...Nathaniel shrugged and glanced upwards, seeing their newest member walk down the stairs with her head held high, ignoring the glances the soldiers around her shot her, her eyes focused on _him_.

_Oh good, round two_. Nathaniel held back an amused smirk.

Turning his head back to the target Nathaniel carefully watched the woman through the corner of his eye. She was still dressed in that ridiculous 'robe' of hers, along with mile green boots reaching up to her knees. _Is she even aware of how that makes her look_? The way she ignored the stares of the male soldiers around told Nathaniel no... Her sandy hair was no longer sweaty and sticking to the back of her neck, now it was tied back into that bun of hers, leaving rogue strands to arch across her forehead, giving a her a somewhat barbaric impression, which wasn't the least helped by the scowl on her angular face. She was far smaller then the soldiers around her, men and women covered in steel...with her tanned skin so brazenly on display Velanna resembled wood in comparison.

A glance at her confident walk and Nathaniel shrugged. _Then again wood can be pretty hard too_...He placed an arrow into the target, close enough to the centre to please him.

"I spoke to some flat eared fools on the way here..." Velanna's voice was soft, but he could hear the glee in it, that she had a plan. _Ah, recovering some pride are we_? Nathaniel ignored the woman as he drew another arrow and aimed down the range. "...apparently your family owned these lands." The arrow thudded into the corner of the target, drawing a smirk from the Dalish even as Nathaniel berated himself. _Of_ _course_ _she_ _would_ _hear_ _of_ _this_..._should have been prepared_.

"That is correct." He grunted, taking a calming breath as he reached back to draw another of his standard arrows.

"Yet now you are here, following the woman that killed your father." Velanna pressed, obviously enjoying herself greatly.

_I_ _realise_ _you're_ _trying_ _to_ _bait_ _me_, _recover_ _some_ _pride_ _or_ _whatever_..._but_ _this_ _is_..._rude_. Nathaniel kept his tone neutral though, not willing to yield. "Correct again."

"And how does that make you _feel_?" Velanna was nearly grinning, arms crossed over her chest as she pushed her advantage.

He had expected such a question, yet it struck him harder then anticipated...and strangely it _didn't_ make him angry, only _confused_. Frowning he notched the arrow. _Do_ _I_ _hate_ _the_ _Commander_? _I_ _don't_ _like_ _her_..._but_ _I_ _can_ _also_ _respect_ _her_..._does_ _that_ _preclude_ _hate_? _It's hard to hate for a very long time_..._it's not that burning fire in my gut anymore_..._only a simmering thing_. _Sure_ _it_ _claws_ _at_ _me_ _at_ _night_..._but_ _so_ _does_ _many_ _things_...

"Nathani_e_l?" It was strange hearing his name in the woman's mouth, the 'e' oddly elongated, as if she was trying to sing it. _Maybe she means it as an insult_?

Shrugging Nathaniel answered her, his tone neutral: "I focus on things greater then myself, my personal emotions are of no consequence."

"That's what I thought." The woman snorted. "Must be hard to follow an _elf_ around, an elf so much greater then yourself..."

_Got you_. Nathaniel held back his smirk as he pulled the string to his bow taut and took aim at the distant target. "And a flat ear to boot." He released the arrow even as Velanna flinched at the implication, they _both_ obeyed the _flat_ _ear_ after all...and Nathaniel couldn't help but smirk as the arrow hit the dead centre of the target.

The Dalish snorted, her arms dropping to her sides as she shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, no doubt irritated with how he had stopped her offensive. Then she glanced at the bow in his hand...and the smirk returned. "The Dalish are the best archers in the known world you know..."

_Trying to insult my professional pride now are we_? _I must have really hurt her pride back in the keep_... Nathaniel shrugged as he pulled a fresh arrow out of his quiver. "So they say."

"Far superior to any human with their inferior eyes..."

He notched the arrow. "Sounds probable."

"Able to-"

He drew back and loosed the arrow, the missile smashing into the end of the arrow in the centre, cleaving it in two with the force of the impact until it finally too was embedded in the target.

Silence, Velanna's gaze going between him and the target.

_I enjoyed that way too much_. Nathaniel held back his grin as he turned to finally face the woman properly, lowering his bow as he kept his face a polite mask. "Did you wish something of me?"

The elf blinked, pushing the wonder in her bright grey eyes aside with a visible force of will as she struggled to recover. "I...yes..." She frowned and looked him up and down, as if re-evaluating him, then cocked her head to the side as she with a nearly friendly gesture pointed at the quiver on his back. "I wondered about those quivers of yours..."

Nathaniel smiled politely. _Good_, _she_ _can_ _conjure_ _some_ _manners_ _at_ _least_. "Yes, I have several for different types of arrows." He had thought of it quite a while ago, and now with some extra time on his hands he had gotten to work in arranging his arrows as such. "The main quiver is for standard arrows." He shot a thumb back to the large quiver, then reached back towards the smaller one attached to that one with a leather strap. "The smaller one attached to it has armour piercing arrows." He held up the arrow, its tapered point long and thin.

To his surprise the mage before him actually seemed to be listening. _Guess a Dalish would like arrows no matter what their occupation is_...

Turning slightly he showed at a flat quiver nearly horizontally strapped to his lower back, the arrows there fixed tightly in the snug fit. "Hollowed arrows filled with dust of iron, explodes on impact, to disorient." A short gesture for the longer one hanging from his belt and resting against his right leg. "Fire arrows." Another gesture, this time to the one hanging over his left leg. "Bottle tipped, to be filled with poison or acid, for tough targets."

"You...come prepared." The woman admitted, almost sounding pained to admit it. _Guess_ _that's_ _a_ _compliment_... "And that one?" She pointed over at an arrow Nathaniel had chosen to tie to his left quiver with a leather cord, its tip a large and decidedly round piece of iron. The elf seemed torn between amusement and fascination at the sight of it.

"For hunting small birds and knocking down fruit from trees." Nathaniel shrugged, remembering how he had lived on such things during longer scouting missions in the Free Marches. "They don't get damaged as they do when hit by a sharp arrow that way."

Velanna blinked, then smiled ever so slightly, a strangely _sad_ smile. "Very practical..." Her voice was soft, distant, in memories...

_Should_ _I_? _I_ _don't_ _want_ _to_ _upset_ _her, but then again it could be used as a diplomatic gesture_... _I_ _should_ _at_ _least_ _try_. Pretending not to notice her sad tone Nathaniel shrugged as he in conversational tone spoke: "A shame I haven't managed to acquire some of those superior elf-flight arrows though..."

The smile disappeared, the lips becoming a thin line. _Ah_, _I_ _shouldn't_... "You mean _steal_ them?" Gone was the soft tone, the distant look, it was here, now..._scornful_. "Your humans are all alike..."

"I didn't mean 'steal'." Nathaniel pointed out, struggling to hold back his sigh of irritation. _She __has a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain_... "Nor did I mean any insult-"

Velanna snorted. "Bah, try me."

Nathaniel blinked. "Pardon?"

The elf raised her hands and slapped her shoulders for emphasis. "Try it, insult me, you people only manage it when you're being unthinking brutes, if you actually _tried_...bah." _You got to be kidding_...

He frowned, shaking his head slightly in confusion. _From one thing to the next_..._is she __trying__ to make enemies_? "Baiting me like this is quite juvenile Velanna, I have no desire to insult you."

A smirk, taunting. "Amazing how often ability and desire coincides." The smirk widened, digging into Nathaniel's nerves. "And here I had begun to think you clever..."

_Very_ _well, have it your way_. Nathaniel snorted as he gave in and looked the woman over, searching for a good insult. His gaze naturally fell to the ample bosom of the woman, now pressed up against her crossed arms, but a quick glance at her smirk told him that would be a bad choice. _She has no doubt heard all the jokes there is back with her clan_... Maybe he should make a quip about her character? There sure was a lot of material there...but Nathaniel had a feeling she would just shrug such words aside.

_No, it has to be something she wouldn't expect, but which she might be insecure about_. Nathaniel looked up at the woman's face. The sharp angles of the tanned face with the pale tattoos on her chin and forehead didn't offer much in the way in material, it was all things she was no doubt proud over, as were the full set of lips. Then his gaze darted to her ears, those surprisingly thin things whose length rivalled that of any other he'd ever seen...and he knew he had it. He actually _liked_ them, it made her face less harsh, gave some softness to a face of nothing but sharp angles.

_But she doesn't need to know that_. "Your ears remind me of that of a deer."

The elf blinked, then snorted, then her eyes darted sideways as a slight blush appeared on her cheeks...her lips becoming a thin line of irritation. "See? You couldn't come up with anything..."

"If you say so." Nathaniel held back his smirk, reminding himself that he actually hadn't _wanted_ to insult her. _Felt_ _good_ _though_.

Velanna pursed her lips, still not looking at him, eyes narrowing as she tried to think of some stinging retort. Of course if she actually came up with one she would only prove that he had struck a nerve...and they both knew it. _And_ _it's_ _getting_ _better_...

"We are leaving." The two jumped in fright at the new voice entering the conversation, finding Lynn standing between them, dead eyes going from one to the other as she waited for them to react. How did she...? Nathaniel knew he was good at detecting people, and even though Lynn had a certain stealthy way of moving he should have seen her approach in her golden armour, or at least heard her.

_Must have been too distracted_...Nathaniel managed to recover enough to ask: "Where to Commander?"

"Amaranthine." Lynn snapped, apparently not feeling the urge to share more information. Then she was suddenly scowling, nearly making Nathaniel take a step back, an illogical fear of her disapproving of his question entering his mind.

Then he saw her turn her head to look over at Anders and Mhairi. At the pair still sitting on the stairs leading to the inner courtyard, still smiling as they spoke in hushed whispers, Mhairi's hands in Anders'. As he watched Lynn's scowl turned into a heated glare. _Uh_ _oh_...

"Mhairi!" The voice was cold...and tinted with a hint of anger more terrifying then a hurlock's roar of hatred.

As one the pair jumped to their feet, Mhairi's hands wrenching themselves free from Anders', her left slapping her leg as the right one shot up to salute, her face staring forward...and peach in colour. "Yes Commander!"

"You are to stay here and train the new recruits!" Lynn snapped, and Nathaniel couldn't help but notice her hands were clenched into fists, as if the woman was suddenly struggling to contain a temperament Nathaniel barely thought existed. "Anders!"

"Y-yes?" The mage stuttered, paling as he inched away from Mhairi, looking like a child caught stealing.

"You're with me!" The elf snapped, then when the mage shot Mhairi a look her voice turned into a low growl. "_Now_..."

"Y-yes Commander!" Anders jumped to obey even as Lynn brushed past Nathaniel, already heading through the gatehouse and the open road.

Shaking his head Nathaniel looked after the Commander marching on, her shoulders stiff in anger. He frowned in confusion. "What was _that_ about?"

"Same as always..." Anders muttered, the mage moving past Nathaniel, his eyes downcast, lips pursed in a pout. "...she's just a grouch."

"I doubt that..." Velanna muttered and moved to follow.

Nathaniel could only nod in agreement.

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not having killed me yet._


	17. Chapter 17

Stone upon stone.

High walls.

Muck under feet.

The stench of garbage and unwashed bodies.

_High_ walls...

It was safe to say that Velanna did _not_ like the city. There were too many people, a permanent odour surrounding the place, filth _everywhere, humans_ everywhere, humans that for some unfathomable reason _stared_... _Never seen a free elf have you_? _Swine_... She snorted as she followed the others through the filthy maze they were in, trying _not_ to think about..._it_.

_High_ _walls_..._close_..._leaning_ _closer_..._ready_ _to_ _fall_..._crushing_... She scoffed and squared her shoulders, forcing herself to look straight ahead, to ignore the suffocating prison she was in. _Animals fear, and animals are wise, but I am elven, and I am wiser, I __control__ my fear_.

Hissing in anger at a man suddenly bumping into her shoulder Velanna sent the fool skittering off. Her mood was rapidly deteriorating as she shot a glare at half a dozen men and women shems staring at her from behind some sort of stand covered with greyish lumps of vegetables that they seemed to think were still edible a glare, her glare made the shems look away.

But glaring at them meant seeing the stones behind them, the walls, the things of dead rock so close...ready to-

_No_.

She looked away, gaze going to the back of thei-_her_ Commander. _Can't believe I'm to be commanded around like some shemlen sheep_..._I was supposed to be a Keeper! A preserver of our lore and leader of_... She grimaced, far too fresh memories digging into her, _shaming_ her. _Always_ _so_ _stubborn_..._my_ _sister_ _is_ _right_..._I_ _shouldn't_ _have_..._no,_ _don't_ _think_ _about_ _it_. She watched her Commander take a left, heading down a set of those stairs the humans seemed so fond of. _At least I don't simply follow like the two shemlen with us_.

The thought was some comfort. While the fool mage, who so far had been nothing but an annoyance, and the hunter who had been..._vexing_...but at least..._bearable_...had silently followed their Commander Velanna had had the good sense to ask some questions. Despite the glances the other elf had shot her Velanna had persisted, she was _not_ afraid of the Commander. Not of those dead eyes boring into her, seeing her soul, naked and vuln...she shook her head with an irritated snort. _I'm __not__ afraid of her_.

So they were set on finding a pair of hunters, though what kind of self-respecting hunter resided in this cesspit the shemlen called a city was beyond Velanna's understanding. They had apparently found some hive full of darkspawn...and that knowledge eased some of Velanna's unease about the prison around her. The knowledge that she would soon get to kill some of those beasts who had taken her sister from her, who had compounded her mistake..._the idea of vengeance is sweet indeed_.

After a few questions it was clear the hunters, or whatever they believed they were, had gone to the tavern. Velanna grimaced at that. As far as Anders short but vivid description had told her it was apparently a place for already idiot shems to inebriate themselves into loosing what little brain-matter they _had_...and apparently they _crowded_ to do so. _A crowd of drunken shemlen pressing all around_... Velanna shuddered, old nightmares from when she had been younger and less sure of herself making her heart thump with fear._ I'll just fry the first one to touch me_...the thought eased her heart-rate, but didn't stop the shuddering. _All_ _around_..._close_...

Her gaze wandered to the back of Nathaniel. The hunter was...calming. For all his...vexing remarks and..._shemleness_...he had struck her as trustworthy. Part of it was of course the familiar occupation and way of movement...she had to admit that he moved like the finest of Dalish hunters. But there was also the fact that he didn't glower at her like that shemlen dressed in steel, nor smirk at her like that fool mage, or stare like the other shems that seemed to be _everywhere_... He just _looked_ at her...and to be measured by _who_ she was, and not by _what_ she was...felt _liberating_, however little she might deserve it.

So she had taken to observing him as they walked, trusting his hunter instincts to tell her if anything was afoot, to warn her of danger. She was sure Lynn would be equally able to tell if there was danger...but Velanna did _not_ trust the other elf. Velanna recognised a sick animal when she saw one...and Lynn _reeked_ of danger, telling Velanna that the woman would abandon any of them in a heartbeat if that was what it took to complete her mission. Nathaniel would _not_ however, his movement spoke of stealth, harshness too...but _not_ deception, neither dishonour, _despite_ his race. He would _not_ leave her to suffer if he could help it.

_To think I'm picking a shemlen over an elf as the one to trust_... Velanna held back scoff. _Change is part of life I suppose_...

As if sensing her scrutiny, which she knew Dalish hunters had a habit of doing, the man turned his head to glance over at her, dark grey eyes taking in her stance and face in one look, reading her like a book, making her feel uncomfortable. _At least there's no judgement in those eyes_... "Are you well?"

A short question, to the point, she had expected no less. She offered a short nod, stiffening her upper lip. "Yes."

"Good." A short nod...and he returned to follow their Commander.

_Good_...Velanna desired no coddling...and Nathaniel would not give it. _Still_..._perhaps_ _I_ _had_ _spoken_ _too_ _soon_? She eyed the walls of the city, seemingly inching closer, making the soggy ground beneath her feet become a mire, slowing her down even as the walls bore down upon her...closing the distance, ready to...

Shuddering Velanna hesitated. _I can't admit weakness_..._not_ _to_ _some_ _shem_. _Then_ _again_ _he_ _is_ _my_ _ally_..._but_-

"Na-Nathaniel?" The voice broke through Velanna's thoughts, through the buzz of sounds that seemed to permeate the entire city. It was strangely warm and friendly for such a filthy place...and sounded oddly baffled as well.

The group stopped and turned towards the voice, all but Nathaniel who had frozen mid-stride, as if paralysed by some spell.

As such Velanna saw the woman before the hunter did. She was Velanna's height, as such an inch shorter then Nathaniel, the dress covering her slender form a simple one, which at least wasn't as dirty as the ones Velanna had spotted in the city so far. Her black hair was neatly cut to just beneath her ears, her face pleasantly oval in shape, sporting large grey eyes sparkling with...something. And her hands, pale things seemingly lacking any strength, were clutched to her chest as she wrung them in emotion. "N-nathaniel?" She repeated, voice small, actual _tears_ in her eyes all of a sudden.

The man slowly turned his head, as if the rest of his body couldn't heed his commands. His calm and confident voice oddly hoarse, actually _cracking_. "D-Delilah?"

The shem woman mutedly nodded, biting her lower lip as she with shaking shoulders stared at the hunter, as if unable to believe her eyes.

Then Nathaniel moved. One moment he was just standing there, the next he had his arms around the other human in a tight hug, a hug the woman was answering in kind, her mouth a wide smile even as her closed eyes were sheding tears of joy. _What_ _the_...? Velanna wasn't sure what to make of it, Nathaniel hadn't struck her as the emotional type...but now he was holding onto the woman before him as if he was afraid she'd evaporate at any moment.

"Delilah..." His voice nothing but a hoarse whisper, thick with emotion. _Ah_. Velanna grimaced in disgust. _Had hoped to avoid seeing any human mating_... "I...I t-thought you d-died with the others...?"

"I left long before that..." The woman whispered, eyes still closed, hands running over Nathaniel's back, as if trying prove his existence. "...before all the...wrongs."

Nathaniel finally pulled back, but only just enough to hold the woman's face as he leaned his forehead against hers, letting Velanna see that he too had his eyes closed, the corners of them wet. _Huh_...Velanna cocked her head to the side, surprised at seeing such an emotional response from the stoic man. "Sister..." _Ah_. Velanna felt a shiver run down her spine at the whisper., watching as Nathaniel's mouth moved, whispering the word, as if it was a prayer. "Sister..." Only then did the word properly register to Velanna, striking her like a hammer-blow. _Ah_...Swallowing Velanna looked away, a mix of envy and sadness welling up within her.

_His sister_..._why couldn't it have been a lover_? Velanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the memory of her own sister all too vividly reaching her mind's eye. The blighted flesh, the milky eyes, the fanged smile... "I've lived here a long time now...the queen came to see me after father's and the archdemon's death...but she saw I was no threat and left me to live my life here. I've been safe brother, _safe_...and worried for you."

The words _hurt_, but she listened, unable to walk away, _unwilling_ to walk away.

"B-but...here? I...sister you're a-"

A small laugh, fitful and kind. "A Howe? A noble? Brother...you know I never cared for that." A sigh, the shifting of leather against cloth, the pair still unwilling to part. "I've found a good man...a nice life...away from the...politics." Simple words, echoing with old pains, uttered for the sake of another, the woman's brother...her _family_. Velanna winced.

"F-father...he...let you...leave?" Nathaniel's voice was thick with emotion, a frown in it. Velanna didn't have the strength to look and check though, her eyes remaining closed. "I thought he wanted..."

"I..." Hesitation, caring, a want not to hurt. Not spoken by a _shem_, but by _family_...Velanna winced. "...stopped caring about his wishes long ago."

Silence, hesitation, a question on his lips.

"I...I know you loved him, idolized him...but..." More hesitation, pain, more _caring_. Velanna bit her lower lip, head bowed as she felt her shoulders shake. _Sister_... "Brother...he was always...and after you left..."

"W-what..." Nathaniel clearing his throat, voice thick, worried, _emotional_...he had suspected, he had perhaps even _known_...she could _hear_ it. "I...you...he was just..."

"We...should talk...come."

Opening her eyes Velanna felt her shoulders slump as she watched Nathaniel, one hand in that of his sister, looking back at Lynn with a questioning look in his tearful eyes.

The other elf was looking away, her lips a thin line, but otherwise the same uncaring creature Velanna knew of. "Go with her, but meet us by the gatehouse later."

The hunter bowed, shoulders visibly sagging in relief, voice coloured by the same thing. "Thank you Commander."

Then the man moved to follow her, his sister, an eagerness in his walk, _despite_ whatever fear he had of what his sister might tell him. Because she was his sister, because he trusted her, because he _loved_ her... Velanna shuddered, a lone tear struggling out from the corner of her eye.

_Damn_ _it_...

888

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson and her diligent work._


	18. Chapter 18

_Father_...

Nathaniel's gaze was fixed on the dirt road they walked on as they left the city behind them. He didn't really see it though, his eyes distant as he remembered his father.

"Thank the gods, I couldn't have stayed there a moment longer." Velanna's voice was distant, a muttered echo.

He remembered a weathered face, worn with work and plans and an ever present...shame. A shame over what his father's family _wasn't_, what they didn't _have_. A man constantly on the move, trying to make life better for his family, to strengthen the family name, _for_ them...even to the point where he never saw them. Nathaniel remembered an ageing man snapping at his son as he spent hours brooding over papers and oaths, searching for a way to give his children what they deserved, never understanding that they only wanted some attention, some love.

"I don't know, I had fun, the tavern was a bit small though." Anders voice...happy, distant.

He remembered a man that had perfected the apology, who _meant_ it when he with a tired smile visited his son at the late hours of the night, nearly falling asleep as he sat down on his son's bed. Always weary beyond words, yet taking the time to ask his son for forgiveness for yet another missed meeting, for yet another missed game, for yet another missed day...

"And full with stinking humans." Velanna muttered. "All staring...ugh."

He had always meant it, he had always _been_ sad...and then done it again, always with the same excuse, always with the need to do something for the family. He denied them happiness with him, _himself_ happiness...but always _for_ them...and it was impossible to stay angry with him, knowing what great efforts he was putting into trying to make them _happy_.

"Well you can't blame them."

Had it ever been to make _them_ happy though? Or had it been his _own_ ambitions that had clouded his vision? They had _never_ desired more then what they had...it had always been _him_...always...ever since mother had died...as if her death was urging him on, urging him to make his mark on the world. Was that it? Had the realisation of father's own mortality driven him away from the happiness he so easily stepped away from? Had it made him blind to his own children? Had it driven him to the point he would do anything to get what they 'deserved'?

"What do you mean? There were elves in the city too, filthy ones, but elves, why would _I_ be of any interest? Perhaps they fear a strong elf?"

Father had always said history was written by the victors. That heroes were simply the victors and the villains their enemies. Nathaniel had interpreted as not to judge the losers in war too harshly, that they too had had a reason for their actions. But...what if that was really just used as an excuse? What if it was used to justify ones own actions? That if victorious you could call yourself hero, no matter how cruel and inhumanely you had acted to gain that victory? If father had thought upon it like that...

"Perhaps...or perhaps they were admiring the twin peaks?"

_Then I never truly knew him_...Nathaniel swallowed, a shudder running down his spine, his forehead creasing in a frown. _Could I have been so blind_? His sister had spoken the truth, it was a more coloured story then the one Nathaniel had heard from the bards when he had returned from the Free Marchers, but it was still the same one. The story of his father, a cruel opportunist who had aided the traitor Loghain, who had risked the fate of the entire nation in a bid of personal ambition. _He was always ambitious_..._and_ _opportunistic_..._but_ _cruel_..._and_ _without_ _thinking_ _of_ _the_ _nation_?

"I...what?"

He shook his head, drawing a shuddering breath. _No_..._he_ _never_ _cared_ _much_ _for_ _Ferelden_, _it_ _was_ _always_ _about_ _the_ _family_..._of_ _gaining_ _position_. _Cruel_ _though_...Nathaniel grimaced, old memories of seeing the man kick elven servants around until things ended with broken bones entering his mind uninvited. Nathaniel had been afraid at his young age and always hid away when that happened, but however much he hid he always _heard_...heard the cries, the _begging_... _Father knew how to be cruel_...

"The bountiful hills and smooth trunks beneath?"

His sister's tale was..._had_ to be...true...and that _hurt_. Hurt his pride, hurt his family's name...but mostly it hurt feelings. _All the memories_..._they're_ _tainted_. He remembered so many _happy_ times with his father, despite it all...he had smiled whenever he had a moment with the man. But now he remembered the _forced_ happiness, the way he had struggled to smile, knowing he had little time with his father, knowing that the moment at any time could turn nasty...that he was more _fearful_ then _happy_...

"We were in a _city_, there were no hills, and those few trees were filthy."

_My childhood was a lie, a lie I told myself_. Nathaniel closed his eyes momentarily, a mix of grief and self-ridicule stabbing at him. Grief because of what he had lost, or rather, never had had. Self-ridicule because of what he had told himself, that he had prided himself in his logic, of taking things at face-value, of never deceiving himself with dreams and folly...only to find that he had been the greatest fool he had ever encountered.

"The curves and spires?"

And Nathaniel had nearly killed his father's killer...it shamed him. Not only would that have further shamed his family's name in the opinion of the people...but it would have been a _truly_ dishonourable act. For she had been _right_ to kill him, for he had done wrong, for _he_ had been the one _shaming_ the family...she had stopped further dishonour to befall upon the Howe's...and he had repaid her with hatred and scorn.

"Are you just making things up?"

Bitterness, it welled up within him, galled him, the knowledge of what he _had_ to do, what honour _demanded_ of him. _I can't do it_...

"The great pair and their supportive cast?"

_I have to do it_...

"Nathani_e_l?" Velanna's question seemed to come from a great distance as she turned to him, the way she still elongated the 'e' in the name barely registering to him. "Do you know what the fool is speaking of?"

He shrugged, dutifully replying even as his weary eyes moved up to look at the Commander marching ahead of them. "He is suggesting that you should dress more."

Velanna snorted. "More...what?" Making Anders snicker.

Another shrug, Nathaniel not really caring enough to explain. "Just more."

"You mean..." Velanna suddenly spluttered . "Gods!" Anders laughed, loudly. "That's...that's _disgusting_! Those filthy brutish..._creatures_!"

Nathaniel sighed as he increased the length of his steps., his voice low: "They are only human..." Then he forced himself to raise it, to call out. "Commander!"

The elf stopped and turned, cold eyes focusing on him. "Yes?"

"I..." Nathaniel inclined his head, biting his lower lip as he struggled for words, a crushing pressure building up within his chest, threatening to overcome him. Pride and honour struggling, memories and pain colliding, bitterness and knowledge crushing his lungs.

The elf cocked her head to the side. "Out with it."

_Dammit_.

Bowing his head Nathaniel took a deep breath...and slipped onto one knee, his arms stretching out wide to the side in the old sign of complete humility, of putting yourself completely at the mercy of the one before you.

Behind him he heard Anders gasp and Velanna mutter some confused question.

Under him he felt the mud give way before his knee, saw Lynn's feet shift in what nearly looked like discomfort.

"I owe you thanks, and..." He spoke the words despite his pride, honour demanding them. His lips moved, despite the memories demanding him to stop, the pain forcing them to move. His throat dried up as bitterness tried to strangle him, only for knowledge to force him to go on: "...an apology."

"What?" Lynn asked, her tone...odd.

_Just say it_. Nathaniel closed his eyes and let the words flow, forced himself to ignore the pain tearing through him. "You killed my father...and I _thank_ you. _He_ shamed the family, _he_ got my brother killed through his actions, _he_ got _himself_ killed through his actions. The Howe name has always stood for honour and righteousness...and you saved it from being further drawn through the mud by my father. You saved not only the name, but him...from himself." _It_ _hurts_..._say_ _it_. "I did not wish to believe this, I closed my eyes to the facts...and I apologise, I...was wrong."

No answer, the elf shifting where she stood.

Nathaniel didn't dare to look up as he continued, now unable to stop himself. "You have acted with honour where my father lacked it...I couldn't ask for anything else of my Commander...will you accept my apology?"

Silence.

The elf shifting her feet, perhaps pondering his fate, perhaps scowling at him in disgust.

"Apology accepted."

Nathaniel felt his shoulders slump with a surprising amount of relief as he saw Lynn turn on her heel and march on, letting him rise to his feet.

His shoulders remained slumped, his arms hanging limply to his sides, his eyes half-closed as he watched the elf move away with surprisingly hurried steps, not even glancing back at him.

He felt exhausted.

"Wow..." Anders whistled softly, the mage stepping up to Nathaniel's left, his arms crossed in front of him. "...that was some show there..." He shot Nathaniel a glance. "...are you okay?"

_No_. "Yes." Nathaniel muttered the answer, tired, weary...and surrounded by a strange feeling of...defeat. _I did the right thing_...

Yet it still felt wrong, that he had dishonoured his father and his family. _I did the right thing_... He squared his shoulders. _Damn the emotions, I did the right thing_.

"Liar." Velanna muttered, the elf stepping up to his right, her head slightly cocked as she observed him with narrowed eyes. There was no hostility in the gaze though, only a...curiosity. "You are upset."

Nathaniel actually found himself smirking at that. "Perhaps, but I will get over it." He swallowed, his throat thick. "I did the right thing...I just need to...convince myself of it."

"I..." Velanna hesitated, a question on her lips, then simply shrugged. "...see."

"What?" Anders shook his head, frowning in irritated confusion. "I _don't_...what in the blazes are you talking about? I mean you just _said_ that-"

"Anders." Velanna snapped, glowering at the other mage. "Shut up."

"And again with the damn interrupti-"

"Just...shut up." Velanna sighed and looked away, a hand hovering over Nathaniel's shoulder, then lightly landing atop it for the briefest of moments.

Nathaniel's throat closed up at that. _If she feels enough sympathy for that_...he could only offer her a brief nod before he moved to follow their Commander, set on staying alone with his thoughts.

_I __did__ the right thing_..._and I hate that_.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the praise. ;-)_


	19. Chapter 19

Nathaniel knew why he was tired.

It wasn't the long march, he'd endured longer ones in the Free Marches. It wasn't the difficult terrain they had been forced to push through either, Nathaniel had climbed steep mountains when required, a few trees and a thick under-brush was no issue. It wasn't the strain of remaining stealthy as he scouted out the area around Knotwood Hills, he had stayed unnoticed for months at a time before.

No, the exhaustion was emotional rather then physical, sapping his strength as he followed Lynn's orders.

So he had wearily lead them towards the Knotwood Hills, through thick under-brush and down deer-paths, swiftly reaching the area of Lynn's interest. He had, per Lynn's orders, scouted out the area around the great canyon from where darkspawn were supposed to be coming from as the elf herself went to scout out the canyon itself. He had only found a few animals, no darkspawn, the animals had all been tainted with the blight however...meaning that the hunters speaking of the forces marching out of the canyon were most likely correct.

Only now had he begun to calm down, his logic suppressing the instinctual rebellion against thanking his father's killer. In a way he was thankful for having been forced to move, to concentrate on something else...it had distracted him and kept his struggle with his conscience to the subconscious.

He felt better now as he pushed through the foliage to the camp they had set up not far from the canyon, better but fatigued._ A night's sleep will do me much good_.

He sighed with relief as he stepped into the clearing where they had made camp. The ground was bereft of grass, as much of the surroundings were. _Perhaps another sign of the spreading taint_? With two fires going the camp was perhaps a bit unnecessarily large, but judging by the looks the cross-legged Velanna by the right fire was shooting Anders seated on a log by the fire to the left that was perhaps for the best. _Did he try to be funny again_? Nathaniel sighed, wearily rather then with relief this time.

_And no sign of the Commander_...he frowned as he shot the camp another look, just to make sure he hadn't missed the other elf of their little band. _Should I search for her_? He wasn't sure, he knew the Commander could handle herself, but if the canyon was swarming with darkspawn... _She's not so foolish as to challenge them on her own, and if she is she's already dead_.

Shrugging he moved over to Velanna, absently noting how the woman turned her head from scowling at an Anders trying to pretend like nothing, to look at him. He ignored it though, too tired to care as he carefully unslung his bow before simply falling onto a sitting position next to his blanket by the other end of the fire.

The elf said nothing, seemingly weighing her words.

Nathaniel groaned inwardly. _I'm not in a state to spar_..._just_ _leave_ _me_ _alone_. He said nothing however, his hands moving to unstring his bow with practised ease._ I just want to sleep, get a fresh start_.

"I have a question." 

_Of course you do_. Feeling his shoulders stiffen Nathaniel glanced over at the elf, then hesitated, the woman's eyes weren't narrowed in hostility or gleeful with some vicious thought, they rather looked...sad, or..._sympathetic_? Nathaniel blinked._ No, that can't be it_. "You thanked your father's killer...why?"

Nathaniel grimaced, despite the question being an obvious one. Yet...she didn't seem to be planning anything with the question...it was just...curiosity. _Strange_... "You heard my explanation did you not?"

"Yes." The elf cocked her head to the side. "I assume you did this due to something your..." Hesitation, the elf tensing. "...sister told you."

"That is correct." Nathaniel nodded, now curious himself. _What is she thinking about_?

"Most would not admit wrong so..." Hesitation again, Velanna drumming her fingers on a bare thigh. "..._quickly_." The woman cocked her head to the side, with the fire between them her eyes looked like dark pits, but not evil though, soft, calm. "I wonder...why did you not wait, or do it in privacy?"

Nathaniel nearly laughed, instead he only smiled, a small chuckle escaping him as he looked down at his hands. Distant memories of old lessons taught to him by a soft-spoken woman always pale and ill with sickness fluttering past his mind. "Mother, may she rest in peace, always taught me that a noble must always be informed, act with honour and justice in mind, to strive for what is right. But being a noble automatically doesn't make you right. And even though you should never hesitate in acting justly, if you do not...you must admit it as quickly and openly as possible, not hide it away or ignore it." His smile widened, remembering the final words on that lesson as if they had been spoken to him yesterday: "Always admit your faults the instant they are apparent, do it humbly and with due reverence, do that and you are truly noble, and you will be honoured for it."

Silence.

Nathaniel sighed and felt his smile melt away. "Father never agreed with that..."

Finally Velanna spoke, her voice soft, barely drifting across the crackling fire: "That sounds...difficult."

"Life isn't supposed to be easy." Nathaniel replied, looking up and finding the elf looking down at her hands, as he had just moments ago. _She's thinking of those merchants she killed_... "But mostly we find the strength to go on, and if we're stronger then that, to do so with dignity."

A small snort. "Well aren't you on a high horse today...?" Nathaniel smirked at the accusation so softly thrown at him and found the elf glancing up at him, a small smile of her own on her lips. "But you're probably right, I just..." She shrugged and looked away.

Nathaniel drew a deep breath as he leant back on his palms, enjoying the warm fire between the two as he stretched out his weary legs. "Life goes on, you'll do something good with it."

"I...thank you." The woman shot him a glance, then continued to look away, shoulders bunching up in some unspoken tension. To his surprise Nathaniel couldn't identify it, it was almost as if she was annoyed with herself...

Silence.

The fire crackling between the two, soothing him.

Oddly enough he felt relaxed, Velanna's furtive questions having eased some of his own tension. Not to mention he enjoyed the quiet as he waited for the woman to speak, seeing that she still had something to say...and not at all worried of what it might be, knowing that there would be no 'fight' today.

More silence, the elf regarding him, fingers still drumming on a bare thigh as she hesitated.

Then she spoke, voice even softer then before, nearly a whisper. "Tell me...your sister...was it...nice meeting her?"

_Oh_...Nathaniel swallowed, remembering all too well how Velanna's sister had looked the last time they'd seen her, blighted, tainted, _ruined_..."I..." _Should I speak the truth or try to ease things for her_? He watched the woman's expression, finding Velanna regard him with those dark pools of her eyes, boring into him, _demanding_ an answer, an _honest_ answer. "..it was many things."

The woman's fingers stopped drumming her thigh, her breathing visibly slowing as she regarded him.

_Dammit_. "I...was very relieved. My brother was a drinker, but also a fighter, a warrior...my father was skilful, clever...both were nobles, fighting for power." He sighed. "But my sister...she never wanted any of that...she was _innocent_...I...grieved for her the most when I heard the family had died during and after the blight. For she wasn't just one I loved...she was innocent, she would never..._ever_...have deserved the fate I thought she had suffered."

The elf didn't say a word, her shoulders slumping as she watched him, waiting.

Nathaniel found himself shaking, looking down he hugged himself, suddenly finding himself cold. "I...I loved her and thought she was dead...I was so _sure_ of it...it was the only logical conclusion...I just didn't want to hope for anything else, it was too painful." He swallowed, feeling a lone tear forcing itself out of the corner of his eye, despite his efforts to hold it back. "And then she was there, just _there_...as if brought back through magic...it made me so happy that it hurt..." He moved to say something more, but couldn't, his throat closing up, suddenly feeling _very_ tired.

Across him Velanna had her head bowed, he shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

_Oh_ _no_...Nathaniel moved to sit up, to walk up to her.

Only to stop as Velanna looked up again, her cheeks shone from the fire, perhaps due to tears, but the dark eyes were calm, resolute. "You should never lose hope."

"I..."

"_Never_." She repeated the word, making it sound like an order.

"I..." Nathaniel hesitated as he looked away. What if he hadn't stumbled upon his sister in Amaranthine? What if she had been somewhere else? He would never have looked for her, thinking she was dead...and he would have lost her, never knowing she was alive.

He felt Velanna look at him as he hesitated, his face no doubt looking confused.

It was a terrifying thought. "...suppose you're right." He smiled, feeling a rush of relief run through him as he looked over at the woman, finding her shoulders visibly relax as he watched her, perhaps finding his agreement soothing to her own worries about her own sister. "You are very wise my lady."

Velanna nearly jumped at the words, eyes narrowing as she looked over at him. "Are you taunting me?"

"Of course not." Nathaniel replied with a shrug. "Despite your hostility there's no doubt that you are wise, and a lady worthy of respect."

"I..." The woman blinked, confusion written over her face as she regarded him, her hands moving from her thighs to her knees, closing around them, as if to steady herself. "...am no human lady."

Nathaniel shrugged again, puzzled by her reaction. "One does not preclude the other, you are an elf, and a lady of wisdom, race does not necessarily define role, don't you agree?" He gestured for her long ears, then the camp, meaning their task as Grey Wardens.

"I suppose..." The elf muttered, looking away, mouth a thin line of irritation, yet Nathaniel got the distinct impression that it wasn't with _him_ she was irritated with... "And I'm not hostile."

Nathaniel chuckled. "I suppose not, my apologies my lady, I did not mean to offend."

"I...wish I was offended..." _Huh_? The elf shook her head, then looked directly at him, making him blink at the sudden...openness in them, as if she had dropped a guard within them when he hadn't been looking. "I...apologise if I have given the impression that I was hostile before, perhaps that..._was_ my intention...I...did not consider myself saved, but imprisoned."

Nathaniel blinked, momentarily lost for words. _You think you know someone_... "T-that's understandable, I fully understand that you felt yourself cornered with all the new things around you and your new life. To be around humans all the time must be...setting you on edge."

A small snort, the woman shrugging. "It's...easier then I expected." She offered him a shy smile before looking away. "I suppose adapting is part of life."

Nathaniel found himself smiling, oddly giddy about the woman accepting her lot in life with such ease. _Then again she's smart, shouldn't have expected anything else_..._still_.._it's_ _nice_ _to_ _see_. "Good, I'm happy for you, and perhaps _myself_...one of those days you would win one of those conversations."

Velanna laughed, a soft pearly laugh, relaxed, relieved, making Nathaniel smile. "Is that a challenge? You think I'll just roll over and let you dominate the conversations now?" She shot him a teasing smirk.

Nathaniel smirked back, feeling his weariness lift ever so slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it my lady."

"We march in at first light." Nathaniel and Velanna both jumped at the voice, turning their heads they found Lynn crash through the under-brush and into the camp, her golden armour stained crimson with dark blood. _How did I not hear her approach_! _I_ _must_ _have_ _been_...he glanced at Velanna..._distracted_. "There are darkspawn in the canyon, we will attack at daybreak and move in, I believe there might be an entrance to the deep roads there, the architecture I glimpsed there implied it."

"Sounds logical...Commander." Nathaniel replied, feeling a little irritated with the change of subject as he eyed the woman marching over to Anders, snatching up her pack and digging up a wineskin. "Did...something happen?"

The elf glanced at her gore-covered armour, then shrugged. "Patrol of darkspawn, took care of them, they won't report back, but won't be missed until tomorrow I believe."

"Ah..." Nathaniel muttered, not really knowing what to say. "So..."

"Time to sleep." The Commander interrupted him even as she took a huge swig out of her wineskin before corking and throwing it aside...and then simply laying down on the blanket she'd already placed on the ground.

A second later she was still, unmoving.

Nathaniel sighed, eyeing the solid back of his Commander with an odd worry. S_he's so harsh_... _A swig of wine, no dinner and then she just lays down to sleep_? _Does she think she's a golem or something_? _There's more to life then that_..._what happened to her_? For not the first time he believed the songs sung about the woman were wrong...but this time he thought so in a different direction. _The true song would be a sad one, it has to be_...

As if sensing his melancholy, and not caring for it, Velanna spoke up. "Stop leering at her."

Nathaniel scoffed, then laughed, shooting the smirking Dalish a glance. "Wouldn't dream about it my lady." Then he shrugged, reluctantly admitting himself to be tired, and for the time to be already late. "I believe the commander's order makes sense though, sleep will be needed for tomorrow, so if you'll excuse me..." He bowed his head, grabbed his blanket and pulled it over him as he lay down on the ground on his side, facing the woman with closed eyes, too weary to pull off his armour, not to mention not wanting to be caught half-naked if they were attacked at night.

Before him he heard the elf shuffle closer, her soft voice nearly whispering the word: "Nathani_e_l?" The elongated 'e' made him smirk even as he kept his eyes closed, feeling sleep already pulling him towards oblivion.

"Hmmm?"

Hesitation, the woman shifting her weight. "I don't..._really_ have deer-like ears...do I?"

Nathaniel chuckled softly and offered Velanna a smile even as he kept his eyes closed, his body seemingly spinning on its axis as sleep begun to overcome him. "Yes, but I _like_ them like that..."

Silence.

Darkness closing in around him, pulling him down, soothing him...

A soft whisper, embarrassed: "Oh..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her stalwart work._


	20. Chapter 20

_He likes my ears_.

The thought wouldn't stop bothering Velanna and her eyes bored into Nathaniel's back as the group slowly made their way down the narrow path leading to the bottom of the canyon. If he noticed her stare he didn't show it, his bow in his hands as he silently lead the way, head slowly moving from left to right, searching the surroundings for any potential ambushes.

To her left Lynn marched on silently while Anders to her right snickered at some inane thing or the like, but Velanna ignored him as she ran a hand up the side of her face, fingertips brushing against the edge of the ears she usually hated.

Back with her clan she had always been teased when she had been younger by the other girls. Perhaps due to her magical talents, perhaps due to her inability to play well with others...or perhaps simply because she was such an obvious target. With her being so tall for a girl, even elves in general, and with her growing bosom it had been easy to tease her about having 'shem-blood' in her, of being a shem in disguise...

Of course she had easily brushed such teasing aside, it was obvious the other girls were envious of the stares she in her teens had received from the boys in the clan. She hadn't particularly cared for such stares after a while though, they had grown tiresome...and insulting, she was more then a pair of legs and a human-sized bust dammit!

The boys had never cared much for her face though, _never_...there was nothing in it they liked, or perhaps it was just overshadowed by the rest of her. That in itself was insulting, but the girls had noticed it...and _pushed_ on that...and while Velanna wore the face of her mother with pride...the freakish growth of her ears had been a weak point of hers.

They had made her cry...even when she had gotten tougher, harder...any comment on her ears had managed to make her shake whenever she was alone.

_And he __likes__ them_.

Velanna shook her head, surprised by the warmth suddenly within her chest. _Haven't_ _felt_ _that_ _since hunter Fayfan brought me that_... She blinked. _Oh no_..._nonononononono_...

She swallowed and eyed Nathaniel again, this time with trepidation. _I can't_..._he's_ _a_..._but_..._I'm_ _not_ _a_ _foolish_ _teenager_ _anymore_!

Then Anders opened his mouth, and for once Velanna was eager to listen. _Anything_ but to think about that stupid, foolish, sudden cru- _No_, _don't_ _think_ _about_ _it_. She found herself glaring at the mage, who only arched an amused eyebrow as he spoke: "I can't help but notice you're still in that robe of yours..."

"And I can't help but notice that Mhairi would not appreciate you noticing such a thing." Velanna bit back acidly, the memories of teenage boys' stares all too fresh in her memories.

To both her irritation and amusement ahead of them Nathaniel chuckled even as Anders cocked his head to the side, a distant smile on his lips. "I suppose not...but I like to annoy her, it makes her all huffy and rose-cheeked...it's adorable." Velanna smirked at the mage. _Huh, suddenly he became more bearable_... Then the man shook his head and focused back on her. "Anyway, that's not the point, I was just wondering considering our earlier conversation I would have assumed you'd...change."

Velanna had actually considered that...for a few seconds. She snorted. "Yes, because I will change how I dress based on what some fool sheep living in their own filth thinks?" Her words elicited another small chuckle out of Nathaniel, robbing the heat out of her words as she continued: "I am so weak-willed that I will change out of what I'm comfortable with due to the opinions of others? Let them stare, they only disgrace themselves."

"If you say so..." Anders muttered, regarding her somewhat guardedly.

"I'm not some pretty airhead trying to fit in with the crowd." Velanna pushed a finger into Anders shoulder, scowling at him. "Remember that."

To her surprise Nathaniel was the one speaking up, his voice a low mutter, barely audible if one hadn't paid attention. "Definitively not an airhead..." Velanna bit her lower lip, painfully aware that the man didn't deny the 'pretty' part... Then the hunter raised his voice: "Darkspawn movement ahead."

_Did he mean that I __am__ pretty_..._or_ _just_ _that_ _he_ _doesn't_ _think_ _of_ _me_ _like_ _that_? Velanna shook her head at the infuriating thought and freed her staff. _Dammit, the shem is of no interest to me and if he thinks otherwise then too bad_! Ignoring the surprised look of Anders' Velanna growled, trying to focus...and failing as she watched the hunter move up ahead, notching an arrow as he and Lynn took the lead. _I must have fallen ill_...

The bottom of the canyon was small, leaving only one path, forward, towards a massive gap in the dark cliff side. The great hole opened into some strange chamber of smudged grey rock that once might had been lustrous and covered in decorations, but now was covered in filth and giving a strong impression of decay. _We're going in __there_? She glanced up, at the thick stone roof above, at the large amount of rocks atop _that_, just wishing to crush- _Gods_...

There was no time to think of the horrible weight that they were supposed to walk beneath though, for suddenly an arrow whistled past them as they came closer, Velanna finally spotting the foes Nathaniel had seen.

The darkspawn were a solid mass ahead, covering the entrance with their numbers, crude shields raised at the front as the ones in the back readied crude bows to loose their foul arrows upon the four approaching wardens.

_Foul filth_. Velanna snarled at them, her staff raised as a stream of amber fire poured from the fingertips of her left hand to mass above the tip of her staff.

_Give me back my sister_! A second later she lunged with her staff, sending the orb of glowing power forth, hurling it into the solid line of hurlocks and genlocks.

Like leaves in autumn the darkspawn were blown away, many nothing more then burning pieces of torn flesh.

Striding forward she ignored an arrow whistling past her as a genlock she had missed tried to fell her, instead she sent a second fireball forth, engulfing a group of darkspawn that were still trying to get up from the first attack. _Burn_! _Die_! She grinned, watching the darkspawn fall apart, their charred flesh dropping off them in great lumps._ I wanted this for so lo_-

_Thud_.

Velanna blinked, suddenly feeling light-headed. Then she begun to list, despite her efforts to continue her steady advance, tired eyes looking down at the arrow stuck in her right shoulder with mild surprise. _I don't remember that being there_...

Then she was bowled over, a heavy weight slamming into her back even as it rolled her onto her back. On her back Velanna found Lynn crouching over her, the elf glaring down at her, sending a spike of fear through Velanna's mind and momentarily pulling her out of the sudden drowsiness assaulting her senses.

She could only watch as the Commander reached out at the arrow, gripping it... _Won't that_- ...and ripping it out.

Pain!

Velanna arched her back, the sudden burning sensation centred around her wound rushing through her, making her see white for a moment.

But only for a moment, then she saw Lynn still crouching over her, glaring at her even as the soothing sting of healing magic ran through her, no doubt cast by an Anders barely able to wait to hold the rescue over Velanna's head. At the moment though all Velanna could see were the dead eyes glaring down at her, as if she was nothing like a bug. "Don't be rash, think."

Velanna swallowed and managed a mute nod, her body still feeling drained, not from blood-lust, but for too quick casting of the same powerful spell. She swallowed again before managing to croak: "Y-yes Commander..."

Then the elf was gone, a mere golden blur hurtling past Velanna and into the darkspawn ahead.

Grunting Velanna used her staff as support to laboriously get to her feet, her gaze darting over to Nathaniel. The man shot her a worried glance as he felt her eyes upon him, taking in her healed injury and shaking stance, then quickly returned to loosening more arrows upon the creatures, doubtlessly the right call. _Did it have to be such an easy one for him though_? Grumbling, and not sure why, Velanna turned towards the battle.

Ahead and to the left half a dozen darkspawn were stumbling around, rubbing their eyes as grey dust of steel settled around them, no doubt Nathaniel's doing. One after one they were felled by the man's constant barrage of arrows. Further to the right half a dozen of hurlocks stood frozen mid-step by what had to be the advancing Anders' spell, the smirking mage raising his staff, a residue of a crushing spell fading away from one of the frozen creatures as it loudly shattered into bloody chunks.

Then Lynn was there, the elf darting between frozen darkspawn, swinging axe and sword crushing the frozen monsters, sending pieces of ice and flesh flying as arms and heads were cleaved off.

And further ahead...a dwarf! Velanna blinked, her stance rigid as she leaned heavily on her staff, the backlash of her quick spell-casting and the sudden injury making her head swim. Yet she was sure she saw a dwarf ahead, dressed in a pale grey suit of pale armour the dwarf was knocked over. Yet his two axes constantly moved to block the strikes from the three darkspawn towering over him, his body rolling left and right, dodging attacks with a dexterity Velanna didn't think possible of one of the stout people.

But it couldn't last long. The hurlock in the middle was a large and dressed in brass armour, its massive sword again and again cleaving apart the stone tiles the dwarf rolled upon. The ones flanking it bashing after the dwarf with their crude shields along with their curved blades of blackened steel.

_I have another spell in me_. Velanna grunted as she raised her staff, the elegant piece of wood suddenly heavy in her arms. _One_ _more_...she shook her head, ignoring the lesson of her teacher as she, still dizzy, drew on her reserves. _The darkspawn will not harm anyone anymore_..._not_ _take_ _any_ _life_ _away_, _not_ _leave_ _any_ _in_ _ruin_...

It rushed up through her chest, teetered...ready to be extinguished...then pushed forth.

Fire, death, a fluttering ball of amber, ready to do her bidding.

The explosion wasn't grand, in fact it nearly didn't happen, the ball of fire almost becoming extinguished mid-flight. But it did strike the nearest hurlock in the chest, burst open, and sent all three assaulting the dwarf onto their back with a small but bright explosion. _I_..._more_...

They were getting up, snarling, angry rather then hurt, crude weapons still in their hands, ready to extinguish the life of the dwarf struggling to get to his feet...Velanna blinked as he saw the helmet of the dwarf fall off, broken..._her_ feet.

_Sister_...

Velanna's right arm fell, dropping her staff as her vision became a blur. _Just one more_... Her left arm remained raised, trying to conjure a spell, something, _anything_...but there was nothing but oblivion left to draw on, emptiness, darkness...

She saw Lynn move to charge the three, to save the dwarf whose axes were ready to defend, saw Nathaniel's arrow pluck one of the hurlocks of its feet, knew it was over. _Yet_..._more_..._just_..._sister_... She pulled, grunting as she tried to grasp at whatever strand of power that might be left in her.

Instead she felt nothing, the emptiness leaving her breathless, done..._gone_.

"Velanna!" Nathaniel's voice was distant, unimportant. Another mote disappearing as darkness took her.

She fell.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her aid._


	21. Chapter 21

Nathaniel wasn't very religious.

Yet he _did_, as every Fereldian not wanting to become an outcast, go to the chantry for its sermons at regular intervals. As such he could well imagine that the hell the priests so vehemently spoke of was something similar to what the group was experiencing. It wasn't one thing in particular, it was the accumulating pressure of the harsh world they had entered once descending into the Deep Roads which was eating away at them, sapping their strength.

Because it _was_ another world. A world of darkness, heat, sweat and the constant _yearning_ that just wouldn't leave him alone.

For the world below _was_ dark. There were runes made to make light here and there, but where they walked many had either been cracked open or covered in the fleshy filth the darkspawn presence seemed to create. At times they stumbled upon caves not hacked out by dwarven engineers, exposing molten magma that cast a orange glow over them, but those places were far between, and the heat always forced the group onwards, into the shadows.

Even when not next to molten magma the tunnels were warm, the very air dense and suffocating stifling. The heat didn't just come from the magma that might well be inches into the mountain walls, but from the walls themselves, the flesh covering many halls covered in the perspiration of the heat it itself created, making them all sweat rivers.

All that Nathaniel could have handled though, he had suffered worse. But the _yearning_...it tugged at his heart with a terrifying strength. He had already begun to feel the tug at his chest from back in the Wending Woods, the pull towards the darkspawn, the urge to go and find them, to _kill_ them.

It had only grown in strength by now, no doubt due to his body adapting to the taint. But down in the deep roads it was a pull going _everywhere_, the darkspawn were _all_ around him...and he wanted to kill them, to rip their flesh apart! It was an odd urge of madness that Nathaniel had never once felt the touch of before, not even when he was made aware of his father's death.

It was more then that though, the pull was so strong...so _alluring_...at times he almost wanted to tear off his armour, rip through his own flesh, find his own taint and...and...he shook his head.

_Join us_...he grimaced, the thought so disjointed from his real thoughts, not really his, yet in his mind. He wanted the taint, he _wanted_ it..._craved_ it. To pull aside the thin mask of civilisation, to rip the flesh that wasn't his own apart, to expose his real self, to kill, to become one of..._us_.

_No, this is ridiculous_.

Nathaniel shook his head again, harder this time, jolting him out of his reverie._ Don't want to fall asleep anyway_. He grimaced as he noted Anders standing next to him, the mage's face covered in a thin sheet of perspiration, thick dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep. _I don't look any better_. Nathaniel dryly noted, the memories of the more and more intense dreams of darkspawn at the edge of his consciousness.

_No, don't think about it_.

At least there were some positives, the group would never had come so far if it hadn't been for the infighting darkspawn. It had been a stunning sight to see darkspawn fighting one another deep in the bowels of the Deep Roads, as if gripped by some sort of madness. But Nathaniel had seen that there had been a clear two sides, the only problem was that he couldn't understand which was which. In the end he had been too exhausted to think much of it, letting their tireless leader figure it out. He himself just noted that the darkspawn killing each other in the tunnels had made their work far easier then it would otherwise have become...despite how confusing he blessing might be.

The other positive had been that dwarf Sigrun. At the thought of the small woman Nathaniel squinted into the pitch black hall before him, but of course he couldn't spot her, nor their commander, who both had gone ahead to scout out the hall before them.

Normally scouting was Nathaniel's duty, but with the cramped space and his unfamiliarity with the system of tunnels the dwarves had once lived in he wasn't the best choice at the moment. He had calmly admitted that both Lynn and Sigrun, despite their heavier armour, would be better at scouting ahead, they would have the proper skills to get away if spotted as well, since Nathaniel's preference for the bow didn't really suit the many twists and turns of the tunnels.

_A shame we're being led by a crazy person though_. Nathaniel found Sigrun, judging by what little interaction he had had with her, to be a bit...loose in the head. He had never heard anyone describe a path to take and then so _happily_ explain how high a risk of dying they were in...something the dwarf seemed to love pointing out in regular intervals. _Always in such a damn chipper voice too_!

Nathaniel nearly snorted at his thought, thinking of how well the dwarf and their leader had interacted so far, Sigrun cheerfully pointing out where they could die, Lynn shrugging in disinterest and noting that they had a job to do...which sobered the dwarf up enough to make her nod in agreement. _Then again we've been lead by a crazy person for ages now_...

So here they stood, two mages and a bowman, waiting for the dwarf and their leader as they scouted out the dark hall before them, making Nathaniel feel painfully exposed.

Glancing to his left he shot Velanna another concerned look.

There were those kind of people that never got dirty, as if any dirt just avoided them, Nathaniel had long ago noted that Velanna was such a one. As such the fact that she now actually _had_ brown dust sticking to her sweaty skin...and not was doing _anything_ about it...was a clear sign that she was more tired then she let on. While she stood straight and stiff, proudly even, Nathaniel noted that she had her staff out and with the end against the ground, resting ever so slightly on it.

_Can't imagine how hard this has to be on __her_...

Not only was the mage struggling with the same nightmares, heat and yearning as he was...she was still fatigued from her quick spell casting two days ago. While she _claimed_ she had recovered Nathaniel saw through it, the nightmares disrupted her sleep, and no healing of Anders could give her the proper rest a strained mage's mind really needed. Of course she said nothing of it, too proud to admit weakness.

Nathaniel found himself smiling.

The smile faded when he saw the woman glance up for what had to be the hundredth time, the woman was clearly uncomfortable under so much stone. Nathaniel had noted such already in Vigil's Keep, and here in the Deep Roads where even _he_ felt a bit pressed by it all...he couldn't even _imagine_ what she felt.

With a small snort the elf glared forward into the darkness, ignoring the heavy roof above her head with an effort of will. _Strong-willed one_...Nathaniel found his smile reapearing, unable to stop himself._ I've been doing that a lot as of late_...

Shrugging he remembered an old exchange of theirs and realised he had a perfect way to distract her. "So what do those sharp elven eyes see?" Velanna and Anders both jumped at the sound of Nathaniel's voice, but Anders quickly returned to staring straight ahead, a testament to how tired he was, as Velanna turned look archedly at Nathaniel as he continued unafraid: "Are there darkspawn hiding in the darkness?"

Velanna opened her mouth to answer, a scowl on her face...only to stop herself, the scowl easing away as she instead smirked. "I see, making fun of me are you?"

"Would not dream of it my lady." Nathaniel replied with a bow of his head, smiling slightly but keeping his eyes honest. It wasn't making fun of her after all, it was a legitimate question and him wanting to distract her.

Again Velanna opened her mouth to answer, only to stop herself, frowning slightly as she reconsidered her words. _Cute, she's really trying_...Nathaniel's smile widened a bit. "Again with the lady part, do I _look_ like one of your nobles?" She raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"There are many ways to be noble." Nathaniel pointed out neutrally, holding his tongue as he watched the proud bearing of the woman that so casually pushed a rogue strand of now dirty hair over a long ear. _You could put Anora to shame_... "Yours is one of the better I believe, so a lady you are."

A small sigh escaped the elf as she looked away, shoulders slumping a bit. "That is...kind of you to say...I don't feel I deserve it."

"Why not?" Nathaniel blinked in surprise. Nothing in Velanna said anything but that she thought highly of herself, of course there were the moments of guilt...but he had almost begun to think she'd gotten over it, she was strong enough to force such things as guilt aside, after all.

No answer, the elf gently tapping the ground with her staff as she continued to look away.

Nathaniel grimaced and looked away, irritated with himself all of a sudden. _Shouldn't have asked_...

Ahead the tunnel was still dark and unwelcoming, ready to spew monsters at them, as many halls before had already done. Yet nothing moved, nothing stirred, there was only a stifling silence, a brooding darkness, a taint that felt eternal.

_Maker I hope we can leave soon_... The idea of facing the several broodmothers that Sigrun had described didn't sit well with him, if they were powerful you wanted to face one at a time, not several. But what choice did they have? If they left the creatures alone they would only continue to spawn more of their smaller brethren...and Nathaniel didn't fancy fighting a never ending army...

"Do you..." Velanna's voice was hushed, the woman shooting him a surprisingly shy glance. "...have dreams?"

_Ah_. Nathaniel's face turned grim as he nodded. "Yes...and yes they've gotten worse the further down we've gotten." He grimaced, the image of his father's face, twisting into that of a hurlock's uninvitingly entering his mind. _No, it wasn't real, it's just lies_...He wished he didn't feel doubt at the thought. "It is difficult to sleep is it not? I'm not sure if it's the dreams...or the fact that the dreams tells me that I'm not safe where I'm resting."

Velanna hesitated, then nodded. "I...y-yes...it makes it...hard to focus."

_Did she just admit weakness_? Nathaniel tried to hide his surprise as he shot her a look. "I am here if you need help." It was an honest offer, and he tried to remove as much of any sympathy he could from his words, knowing it could trigger Velanna's mood.

Suddenly a small smile stole its way up to Velanna's face as she looked at him, a hand coming up to rub some smudge away from her cheek, her voice soft: "I know."

Nathaniel smiled back, not really knowing what to do, surprised by the ease with which he could deal with Velanna all of a sudden, at the sudden lack of anger and suspicion in her behaviour. "I...well..._good_."

"Yes..." Velanna nodded, then shrugged ever so slightly, looking a bit awkward. "...good."

_Why am I feeling like an idiot_? _Can't believe she's still smiling_..._is she trying to lure me into a false sense of security_?

Then an exasparated sigh escaped Anders, the mage leaning heavily on his staff as he with a tired look glared at them. "Would you two just kiss and get it over with?"

_Huh_! Nathaniel took a step away from both Anders and Velanna as he stared at Anders as if the mage had grown a second head, his own feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton all of a sudden. Then he glanced at Velanna and found the woman's face turning darker in colour as she stared at Anders, then she glanced at Nathaniel and went pale before turning away from them both.

_Should I_...? Nathaniel reached towards the elf's shoulder-

Only to pull back as if burnt as Lynn's voice snapped from the darkness. "It's clear, let's move."

Feeling a strange mix of guilt and confusion Nathaniel turned away from Velanna that still hadn't turned around, and Anders who was smirking far too much...and followed the Commander, grateful for the distraction of walking.

_A kiss_...despite the embarrassment Nathaniel found himself smiling at the thought.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her continued assistance._


	22. Chapter 22

_To kiss Nathaniel_..._ugh what a horrible thought_.

Velanna's shoulders tensed even as she felt the eyes of the man on her back again, no doubt seeing if she was okay once more._ Frustrating human_... She nearly snorted, ignoring the little voice telling her that there was a _reason_ for him doing so, she still felt light-headed after all. _Shouldn't have cast so quickly...and these surroundings don't help_. She felt cold sweat run down her back as she glanced up at the massive stones above them, moments away from crushing them...as always.

_Stop thinking about it dammit_!

Scowling at her own jitteriness Velanna focused on the two ahead of her. For all their differences Lynn and Sigrun were surprisingly similar at first glance. The dwarf and elf both wore dented armour of light plate, Lynn's nearly looking as if it was about to fall apart at any moment by now, and both wielded two weapons at the same time, Lynn a sword and an axe, Sigrun a pair of axes. It was more then equipment though, they both moved in the same way, stealthy...yet straightforward, as if they didn't really fear being discovered, or perhaps even looked forward to it.

_And they are both so damn_..._frustrating_! Lynn was silent, frightening in her decisiveness and uncaring attitude. Sigrun on the other hand was irritatingly chipper for someone who had sworn her life away, and even seemed to find some sort of humour in it, as if her impending death was something to embrace with a laugh. Velanna honestly didn't understand either of them...and she _hated_ not understanding.

The ones behind her weren't much better. Two of those filthy humans, one of them whispering things to the other who stoically ignored whatever idiotic rambling it was, which at least was something in Velanna's book. Still, they were both just filthy humans, clumsy and smelly, filthy creatures that...she sighed, realising she couldn't convince herself of those things. _I've been around them for two long_...she rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the constant weariness, yearning for the taint and yearning for...him.

_No_! _This_ _is_ _not_ _happening_! She nearly growled and squared her shoulders, noting with a hint of relief that they were coming up to a crossroad even as the pull of darkspawn got stronger. _Good, a distraction from the filthy shem_..._yes_..._very_ _good_. The crossroad opened onto three different paths, each pitch black, making Velanna squint in a vain attempt to penetrate the darkness.

A sudden gasp from Sigrun made Velanna pay more attention, making her spot the blotch of silver in the dirt at the crossroad.

The entire group drew their weapons at that, not knowing what trap the darkspawn might have laid.

All but Lynn...who slowly stepped up towards the blotch of silver, making the others follow and realise that it in fact was a suit of armour, half submerged in the dirt, as if many marching feet and pushed it down into it. It was a _whole_ suit, still lustrous with silver, along with a lot of golden inlays that nearly looked like scales to Velanna's eyes. Even the helmet was there, the visor open, revealing a discoloured skull staring back at them, the white plume of the helmet still attached to the top and looking strangely pristine despite the dirt it was laying in.

_Odd, it looks strangely familiar_...Velanna frowned as Lynn slowly crouched down beside the dead warrior and the full suit of armour he still wore, her movement slow. A glance back showed that Nathaniel was watching the proceedings with interest as well, his head cocked to the side as he frowned in surprising worry.

Then there was a hiss.

Instantly Lynn was back on her feet, weapons practically flying out of their sheath's, the armour apparently forgotten. "Velanna, Nathaniel, take the centre! Anders and Sigrun take the right!" The orders were snapped, then the elf leapt to the leftmost corridor, apparently thinking herself able to hold it herself.

A moment later the first hurlock appeared from that corridor, only to have his skull opened up by the flying kick of the Commander as she hurtled into the darkness.

_She's_..._going_ _to_ _fight_ _them_ _in_ _the_ _dark_? Velanna blinked in surprise, only to be pulled back to the present by a rough hand clamping down on her shoulder as Nathaniel barked: "You heard the Commander! Defend yourselves!"

Velanna opened her mouth to snap a reply, only to find the man already stepping past her towards the dark entrance in the centre an arrow notched on his bow...and then ending up in the gut of a genlock suddenly coming out of it, appearing as if by magic, and dying just as quickly.

Growling Velanna raised her staff and clenched her left fist, calling her magic fourth. It shook within her, shuddered, still unwilling to surface after the strain, making her bare her teeth in anger. _Magic isn't my master_..._I_ _am_ _the_ _master_ _of_ _magic_! Another growl and she forced the fire up from her fist, towards the point of her staff, her heated anger nearly searing her skin as the liquid coil of fire danced before her.

Good enough. She grunted and levelled her staff, shooting the ball of fire past Nathaniel and into the darkness illuminating a crudely hacked corridor...and a small _army_ of darkspawn! Velanna blinked, then swallowed, _oh_...

Then the fireball struck the chest of the ogre that was batting its way through a horde of genlocks ahead of it, setting the whole corridor afire and bowling over the smaller darkspawn as the ogre, now covered in scorching fire, stumbled backward with a pained roar.

A roar coming to a quick end as Nathaniel fired an arrow straight into its open maw. There was a shattering of glass, a sudden flash of green liquid and gas in the open mouth of the ogre...before its roar came to an end as it stumbled backwards once more, hands coming to its throat as whatever acid Nathaniel had managed to shoot into its mouth travelled down its throat.

A small whimper...and the creature toppled backwards with a loud crash, crushing several of the darkspawn beneath it under its bulk.

Nathaniel's next arrow struck a hurlock in the chest at the front of the rapidly dimming corridor, setting off an explosion of grey dust that made the suddenly howling creature and several behind it stumble back as they struggled to see with the dust of steel suddenly digging into their eyes. "I need more light here!" The man cried out, taking a step back as a hurlock escaped the darkness of the corridor, pushed through his confused brethren...and charged straight at the man!

Velanna felt her heart jump, nearly throttling her, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the human calmly sidestepped the charge, kicked the creature in the knee, forcing it down on all fours...and then neatly loosed an arrow straight into its neck. "Velanna! _Light_!"

Shaking aside her relief like an old cloak Velanna shot the man a glare as she rushed forth, her staff still levelled as she cried out: "_Here's_ your damn light!"

The fire poured out of her staff, a fiery cone of destruction rushing into the corridor, illuminating a dozen genlocks crawling over the dead ogre...before enveloping them, drawing shrieks of agony from them as they were set ablaze.

The dancing flames of the burning darkspawn gave the man all the light he required, and suddenly arrow after arrow was whistling past Velanna's head as she slowly backed away from the corridor, watching the burning genlocks fall off the ogre as new darkspawn took their place...only to fall over as Nathaniel's arrows found them.

_Whoa_...Velanna shook her head, feeling herself go light-headed as she watched the darkspawn before her die. _If only I could get some proper rest...then I would destroy these creatures within moments_.

As if reading her thoughts Nathaniel suddenly came to stand next to her, his face calm and concentrated as he loosed arrow after arrow at the darkspawn struggling to get over their own dead to reach them as he dully noted: "Rest, we can handle the rest."

Velanna shot him a glare, irritated with how close and...large he seemed, as if the fighting somehow had made him become more then himself.

She nodded though, reluctantly agreeing. The darkspawn in the central corridor were already retreating, unable to cross their own dead stacked high under the withering hail of arrows from Nathaniel. To her right she found the other corridor covered in frozen pieces of broken flesh as Sigrun, still covered in the light of one of Anders' healing spells, danced around yet two still frostbitten hurlocks, her axes darting out and catching them both in between their shoulder blades as they were too slow to turn and face her.

As for the leftmost corridor...

As Velanna watched Lynn came out of the darkness, her weapons already sheathed, her armour even _more_ dented...and all covered in dark blood. Her hands, her feet, her chest, her face...the woman was black with foul darkspawn blood. Some was pooling in the great dents in her shoulder plates, ignored as the woman with impassive eyes glanced at the other corridors, calmly noting the group's victory there.

Nathaniel echoed Velanna's worry: "Are you okay Commander? Are you hurt?"

"Minor injuries." The elf shrugged in disinterest as she marched back to the suit of armour still stuck in the dirt, her eyes strangely cold as she regarded it. "I need a new suit of armour, one heavier then the one I wear now to handle these close encounters...this will do."

Velanna blinked, surprised by the length of Lynn's explanation. She had viewed it as more likely of the other elf simply to take it without a word...not to _explain_ her actions...she shot Nathaniel a questioning look, who just shrugged as he replied: "Sounds reasonable Commander, will you change now or...?"

"There was a room further back where I could change." Lynn softly replied, startling Velanna. _Since when does the Commander care about privacy_! Even as she watched the woman dropped onto one knee before the armour and gently, _gently_ of all things, pried the helmet out of the ground. "Give me a moment..."

Nathaniel and Velanna exchanged a confused look.

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Velanna grunted, tired as she walked up the slight slope leading to the room where Lynn was supposed to be changing.

_Of all the foolish_... Velanna shook her head in irritation. She understood the need for privacy, though all in her clan bathed together they always separated the men and the women, for obvious reasons...but Lynn hadn't struck Velanna as one who cared about such minor things, not to mention that she wore _clothes_ under her armour..._and_ that it was a risk to be alone when out in the Deep Roads! It was just so..._unlike_ the Commander.

To add insult to the injury the elf had been gone for what felt like ages, though Sigrun assured them that it hadn't been that long, but surely long enough to change into a new suit of armour.

Since the Commander apparently wanted privacy all of a sudden the waiting group had only decided to send one of them. And since the men were out of the question, despite Anders rather transparent protests. And because Sigrun, despite her help so far, wasn't to be trusted too blindly with their commander...and because Velanna was an elf as well..they had decided to send her. _Why is being an elf always working against me_? _Damn_ _racist_...

Grumbling protests she knew to be ridiculous Velanna at first didn't hear Lynn.

She only heard it when she finally entered the small chamber.

The sound of crying.

Velanna froze, stunned as her eyes darted left and right, taking the room in. There wasn't much to see, the room was small and sparse, a single square piece of stone reaching to Velanna's hip the only piece of 'furniture' in the room, some sort of memorial according to Sigrun.

Lynn was sitting on the stone, her golden armour laying in a broken pile by her feet, the 'new' armour covering her small frame shining and lustrous in the light of the runes covering the walls. The only piece she wasn't wearing was the silvery helmet, which lay in her lap, cradled in both her hands as she stared down at it with teary eyes.

_Commander_...? Velanna blinked, her arms dropping to her sides as she in stunned silence watched the woman...the uncaring and harsh Commander that had struck her as dead to the world...loudly sniffle as tears rapidly congealed on her eyelashes before raining over the helmet in her lap.

There was no other sound, the Deep Roads silent and dead as it waited for the woman to act. But she didn't, she only sat there, the sound of her sniffling and that of her tears landing on the helmet the only sound penetrating the silence.

Velanna finally managed to move, to lick her lips as she, suddenly nervous, shifted her weight where she stood. "C-commander?" She managed to croak the question, then she swallowed, vainly trying to steady herself.

No answer, not even a shift in the woman sitting on the stone, as if she hadn't heard.

The helmet was now covered in tears, the silver surface glittering in the light, nearly making it look like glass. And Lynn did indeed hold it as if it could shatter at any moment, as if it wasn't really a helmet but a child, her left hand holding it steady as her right again and again moved to stroke the plume of it, as if comforting it.

It was a frightening sight.

Not sure what to do Velanna took a hesitant step forward, her head slightly turned away, unable to watch the scene directly. She repeated her question, feeling like an intruder: "Commander?" No reaction. "W-we...have to go on...I...are you...what's...wrong?"

A sniffle, the elf's eyes so strangely _soft_...pained...a far cry from the dead uncaring they otherwise held. Velanna swallowed, watching with dread fascination as tears streamed down the woman's cheeks, tearing away at the dust and flecks of blood still covering it. _This isn't the_ _Commander_..._what_ _happened_?

"Commander?" Velanna repeated a third time as she stepped close enough to touch the other woman. She didn't dare do so though, afraid of what reaction it might bring. Instead she only rested a hand on the stone the other elf sat on, swallowing as she whispered: "I...can I help?"

"I-it's..." Lynn shook her head softly, more and more tears pouring out of her. Velanna wasn't sure what frightened her most, the Commander being unable to stop her crying in front of her, or the fact that she had just _stuttered_ due to her sobbing. "...so much like _his_..." The right hand once more caressed the plume of the helmet, the movement tender even as the Commander's voice became tinged with bitterness.

Velanna hesitated, then sat down next to the other woman, her muscles tensing, ready to leap up, making her feel like a frightened deer. Then she spoke, keeping her voice soft and unthreatening: "What is? The...armour?"

A mute nod, Lynn biting her lower lip as she visibly shook with the strain of her sorrow. "So much...like his..." A small sob and the other elf doubled over where she sat, both hands coming down to hug the helmet tightly, as if afraid of letting it go.

"Who?" Velanna bit her lip instantly, regretting her question._ I shouldn't_..._this is wrong_..._she's not_..._like this_..._this is_..._all is wrong_.

No answer, the elf gently rocking back and forth where she sat, a choked sob exploding from somewhere deep in her throat as grief Velanna didn't know the Commander capable of tore through her.

_I_..._this_ _isn't_..._I'm_ _not_ _good_ _at_ _this_... Velanna swallowed, hesitated, but finally placed a hand on the other elf's shoulder. Of course Lynn probably couldn't feel it with the armour on...but it didn't matter...it just needed to be there. "Lynn?" It felt odd to speak the other woman's name, as if it didn't really fit the Commander...but Velanna knew using the other woman's rank would be useless now.

A mere whisper, so small Velanna nearly missed it. "_Alistair_..."

She went cold. Of course she had heard rumours...whispers that the hero of Ferelden had been in love with the great king to be...only to tragically lose him in the final battle at Denerim. But it was just a few whispers of some romantics, an elf and a human to have a relationship was ridiculous after all, Velanna ignored the thought of Nathaniel, and that those two would be such legendary characters was just a dream of a bard..._not_ reality.

Yet here it was...naked and pained...a revelation striking Velanna like a blow to the face.

_The Commander knew love_..._I could never have imagined it_. Velanna grimaced, surprised by the sudden sympathy tearing through her. But who _couldn't_ feel sympathy at the sight of the wretch next to her? So torn by grief that it was a wonder she could even live?

"He...the king...human..." Velanna cursed herself, unable to express her wonder and sympathy, too shocked to truly understand.

"H-he sh-should have let m-me d-do it..." Lynn sobbed, still doubled over her helmet, holding it tightly as if it was an anchor holding her in place. "D-damn h-him...he sh-should have let _me_ do it!" The cry tore through Velanna, making her stiffen in equal parts pain and equal parts fear.

Silence, the sobs fading.

Lynn slowly straightened, silent tears running down her cheeks as she with her left hand held the helmet, her right coming down to once more run through the white plume. She smiled, a pained and soft smile, gentle. Her voice was but a whisper: "Damn w-wonderful fool..."

Velanna swallowed, unable to answer, feeling cold and frightened, not knowing what to do, her hand slipping off Lynn's shoulder as she felt herself unable to keep it there any longer.

Then Lynn slipped to her feet, making Velanna jump in fright as she watched the elf's rigid back not knowing what would come next.

When Lynn turned back to her the woman's eyes were cold and uncaring once more, despite the tears still streaking her cheeks...and Velanna suddenly felt grief close around her heart. _This_..._it's_ _not_ _right_. Lynn's voice was as cold and uncaring as her eyes had become, yet the words surprised Velanna: "Thank you."

Blinking Velanna couldn't answer, she could only nod, her sympathy choking her.

A short nod and Lynn raised her hands, putting the helmet into place, covering her tear-streaked face and the cold eyes both. Through the dark slits the _Commander_ regarded Velanna with a terrible calm, making her shudder as she realised whatever the other elf had become had taken over once more.

"Let's move on."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for enduring this one._


	23. Chapter 23

"_That's_...a lot of darkspawn."

Nathaniel would have shot Anders a glare, but the man had a point, the darkspawn ahead was a small army...and that wasn't even counting the three monsters at the rear, probably capable of spewing out reinforcements if needed.

Hidden behind three low boulders the crouching group regarded their goal with what seemed to be mixed emotions.

Their guide, Sigrun, was grinning from ear to ear, eyes slightly narrowed, eager for vengeance and perhaps even death...who knew with a soldier from a group that called themselves the 'legion of the dead'? In contrast to her Lynn's face in the open visor was impassive and uncaring, calmly regarding the numbers arrayed against them, unworried by the danger they presented.

Anders, despite his chuckle and casual tone, looked worried, reminding Nathaniel that the man indeed was no fool...just as Nathaniel knew the mage understood that they might well all die before they even got close to their goal. With the rings under his eyes the mage looked gaunt and weary, his hair damp with sweat as he looked at the arrayed army with a feverish stare.

As for Velanna...Nathaniel glanced at the woman with a frown.

Ever since the elf had gone to get their Commander she had been quiet, of course she usually didn't speak that much unless you started the conversation with her...but this was a different sort, it was an oddly pressed quiet, sad even. _Did something happen_? Nathaniel hadn't pushed the issue, having the feeling that the woman wouldn't have told him anyway. Instead he endured the oddly sad silence, that even now, when faced with overwhelming odds, seemed to linger within the elf.

Nathaniel shook his head._ I can focus on that later_. Instead he looked back at their goal, at their obstacle.

If he jumped over the boulders they were hiding behind he would have found himself in a slope made of dark rocks and brown dust that was straight as an arrow down to a large chamber. The chamber itself had a domed ceiling of brown stone with streaks of silvery metal in it, if it was veins one could mine or reinforcements made by the darkspawn was impossible to tell. Most of the floor of the chamber was flat, like a large courtyard, but by the walls the floor rose into three mounds of now blight-covered rocks.

The courtyard was swarming with darkspawn though, a near hundred hurlocks just...standing there. Despite their feral nature they were standing in nearly orderly ranks. Their feet were constantly shuffling back and forth and they raised their weapons to strike at nothing at times, and growls constantly escaped them...yet they stood there, guarding.

Even without the creatures they guarded being there it was an unnerving sight.

But the creatures they guarded _were_ there, and they were _huge_. With their torsos resting on large mounds of pink flesh they resembled three extremely obese dwarven women. But the thick tentacles sprouting from their backs were black with the blight. Their mouths, despite having the jagged teeth of a darkspawn, looked like sad grins with all the flesh of their face covering them, their pale eyes were the same, blighted yet..._sad_.

Nathaniel felt a mix of revulsion and sympathy at the sight of them._ Is this what happens to all women they take_? _No, many probably die or we would have been overrun a long time ago. Death is __probably preferable_... He couldn't help but shoot Velanna a glance. _I hope this is not the fate of your sister_..._and if the fight comes to the worst_..._I'll_ _end_ _it_ _for_ _you_. The thought made his chest tighten, but he ignored it, knowing it would be the merciful thing to do.

As if sensing his thoughts the elf turned her head, though she still had some of that adorable haughtiness in the way she held her chin and the way her bright grey eyes regarded him...it was dampened now, sad perhaps...or maybe just thoughtful.

A moment passed as the elf cocked her head to the side, her mouth a thin line as she regarded him.

Then she slowly nodded...before turning to Lynn, after such a long time of her staying silent it was refreshing to hear her soft voice, despite the sad undertone in it. "What is the plan?"

Instead of the Commander Sigrun answered though, the dwarf's blue eyes afire, with her roundish face and dark hair in pigtails she almost looked like a child eager over a new toy. There was nothing childish about the reply though: "We go down there and kill them, or die trying."

Nathaniel blinked even as Anders managed a weary chuckle: "Oh yes, brilliant strategy there, you know that thing above your shoulders? It can be used for things _other_ than head-butting..."

Sigrun answered his chuckle with one of her own, her lips parting in a wolfish grin as she regarded the opposition below. "I _like_ head-butting."

"Yes well I'm not as eager to greet the Maker as you are, so just hold your horses or...whatever you dwarves use."

"Brontos?"

"Whatever."

Ignoring the banter Nathaniel turned to Lynn and repeated Velanna's question: "Commander, what's the plan?"

The elf frowned, a mere whisper escaping her lips. "We cannot win if we charge.." It wasn't a worried whisper, just a statement of fact, by the looks of her she seemed as ready to charge down as Sigrun, despite knowing what the outcome would be.

Velanna looked way, biting her lower lip, but Nathaniel forced himself to ignore the oddly timid behaviour of the other elf as he kept his focus on the Commander. "Then we don't charge them directly, victory is what's important."

Silence.

For a horrifying moment Nathaniel actually thought the elf would just rise up and charge the beasts, like some shining knight of the bardic tales. But then she nodded, cold eyes regarding the monsters below even as she spoke: "Agreed, we need a plan." A glance back, at Sigrun for some reason, the dwarf still busy with Nathaniel. "I saw a tavern a while back."

Nathaniel blinked. _What use would an abandoned tavern be_? _And what did that have to do with the dwarf_? "And?"

The cold eyes suddenly met his, making him shiver in some wordless disgust. "And I have a plan."

8

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The darkspawn hadn't moved.

They still stood there when the group returned, feral beasts held in a tight leash, wishing slaughter, yet holding.

They didn't see the liquid.

Most of the barrels they had found in the tavern were either smashed or empty, but the group had found two...which would be enough considering how big the dwarves made them.

As Nathaniel watched from his cover the content of the two barrels slowly moved down the slope, transparent and nearly invisible in the poor light. It was a slow but steady advance, sneaking its way down to the chamber below as Lynn and Sigrun slowly emptied the two barrels at the top of the slope, careful so as to not pour it too quickly, or to make themselves visible to the monsters below.

Standing slightly crouched Nathaniel had his bow in his hand, an arrow notched but not drawn, the thatch wound around it just behind the arrow-head covered in black tar that Nathaniel had only moments ago applied.

He was ready, narrowed eyes set on the creatures below, waiting for a reaction, ready to cover the group's retreat if their ploy was discovered too early.

No reaction came though, the darkspawn still stood there in the courtyard, growling at nothing, shuffling their feat, straining against whatever order that kept them from rushing forth and finding foes to slay.

Nathaniel wished he didn't know the feeling, his own yearning now a distant throbbing, not because it had gotten weaker, but because it had become part of him. _Filthy creature's, we are nothing like them_. He nearly growled at the though, but suppressed it. _I hope killing the broodmother's will weaken this_..._urge_.

The hurlocks didn't move, didn't react, not even when the liquid touched the foremost ones feet, their steel boots keeping them from feeling it clinging to them.

From above Nathaniel could see the pool shimmer as the light from the chamber was reflected in it, but the hurlocks were too close, in the wrong angle, and couldn't see it. _Or perhaps they simply don't understand_? _Or care_? The pool grew, expanded across the chamber's courtyard.

And there was no reaction.

Nathaniel watched, feeling his heart hammer against his chest, as the liquid finally reached the edge of the broodmothers only licking the edge of their fleshy body due to the slight raise they rested on.

Lynn's order came a second later: "Begin."

Suddenly feeling a jab of excitement Nathaniel turned to Velanna who was crouched down to his right and grinned at her as he inched his bow closer: "My lady, some fire if you will?"'

The elf blinked at him, then scoffed softly...before a small smirk stole its way to her lips, despite the slight glow of irritation in her eyes. "If you so desire..." She reached out with her left hand, slender fingers touching the thatch wound around the arrow...only to pull back as the tar caught fire from her minuscule spell. "Don't miss."

Nathaniel found himself smirking, surprising himself even as he shot Velanna a wink. "As you command, my lady."

Forcing himself to ignore the amusing sigh of the woman Nathaniel smoothly rose and drew his string back, making sure to stand in the light as much as possible, knowing the fire on his arrow would stand out all the more if he stayed in the shadows.

The darkspawn had yet to see him, and he didn't squander the opportunity to let loose his arrow so he could watch its descent.

A guttural hiss escaped one of the darkspawn as it spotted the arrow arching through the corridor towards the courtyard of the chamber, making the others look up, pale eyes narrowing as they saw the lone missile heading their way.

A hundred pair of eyes moved away from following the descending missile, following its route towards the top of the slope, towards the cover where a lone archer looked down at them as the others waited in tense silence.

A hundred pair of blighted eyes on _him_.

They roared as one, causing the caverns shake with their hatred, making Nathaniel's chest quake with a fear he barely thought himself capable of any more.

Then the arrow struck the ground.

A great whooshing sound washed away the roars of the hurlocks, the explosion of light blinding Nathaniel and making him raise his arm to his face as the fire rushed up the slope, nearly hitting him as well as the liquid reached the outer edge of the boulders they were taking cover behind.

Then the light diminished, the fire returning to the courtyard as the little alcohol clinging to the slope was quickly burnt off.

And with the receding of the fire came the shrieks.

The hurlocks were aflame, living balls of fire rushing up the slope, shrieking in agony even as they in mindless hatred scrambled to reach the group, pressing up against one another in an effort to squeeze through the small corridor leading upwards, some even hacking at each other in a mindless frenzy of animals near death.

"Velanna!" Barely had Lynn's order left her lips before a fireball hurtled down the slope.

Another great explosion of blinding fire, and the darkspawn were smashed backwards, the entire compressed group visibly buckling backwards, as if they were a mass of flesh punched by the exploding spell.

Behind them Nathaniel could see the broodmothers shrieking as well, their dark tentacles swinging in the air as the flames covering the courtyard licked their flesh.

He didn't have time to see how much damage that actually did though as his attention was drawn to Lynn and Sigrun rushing forth, the later with a great cry of hatred, the former silent.

They reached the reeling darkspawn at the same time, both leaping the final few feet and crashing into the foremost hurlocks, bowling them over and into the next. A second later their blades flashed in scything blows, felling a near dozen of the burning darkspawn within the blink of an eye. When their blades begun to burn, covered in the ethereal fire of Anders' spell, it only added to the carnage as they with great cleaving blows tore apart the burning darkspawn.

Drawing a fresh arrow Nathaniel loosed it over the heads of the two women, feeling a bit ineffective as he watched a solitary hurlock fall to the missile even as Lynn and Sigrun's weapons gutted and tore off limbs of their opponents, sending burning entrails and limbs rolling down the slope as the entire darkspawn army gave way. Many at the rear were already falling as the fire under their feet added to that already covering them, searing their flesh from their bones...rapidly diminishing the force between the group and the howling broodmothers.

Then he saw Velanna stand up as she with a concentrated frown and sweat dripping from her face, moved her arms above her head in an intricate pattern Nathaniel hadn't seen before. "Velanna! _Don't_! You're already tired!"

The elf ignored Anders protest as she with a low groan continued to move her arms, faster and faster. Nathaniel nearly rushed at her, only the fear of what would happen if he interrupted her mid-casting stopping him from bowling her over._ Damn idiot woman_!

A sigh and Velanna's shoulders dropped...

As the chamber below became a storm of fire, a whirlwind of fiery destruction that sucked up the fire of the floor, pulling it with it in a great force of an ethereal wind and slashing the three broodmothers with coils of fire, tearing into them with it, leaving scorched welts in them as they shrieked in agony.

Then she fell.

Nathaniel caught her, not having realised that he had dropped his bow and moved to get her.

Her face was relaxed, covered in smudge and sweat, mouth slightly open, slack...it made Nathaniel's heart jump in fright. _No_... Holding her back with his right hand his left reached out, feeling her throat, feeling for her pulse.

Nothing.

_NO_!

Then a single thump, barely pushing against her fingertips.

_I_..._she's_...Nathaniel found himself light-headed as his breathing hitched, staring at her as the healing light of Ander's spell enveloped her, making her hair glow like a halo even as he saw a slight twitch in her face, a minuscule cough escaping her even as Nathaniel felt the thump of her pulse return with more vigour.

Nathaniel found himself grinning, nearly laughing with relief._ Bless that man_...

"Nathaniel!" Looking up at the shout he found Lynn and Sigrun bodily tackling the remaining, and much weakened, darkspawn into the storm of fire of the courtyard, the slashing coils of fire tearing the already scorched creatures apart into ashen pieces.

Neither stopped though, they both leapt forward, onto the courtyard, into the fire, Anders healing spells glowing around the pair as they heedlessly rushed against the shrieking broodmothers.

_I_..._no_..._focus_. He gently placed Velanna onto the ground and pulled up his bow, drawing one of his special distraction arrows with a flourish.

Aim, loose.

The arrow streaked through the air, the whirling fire storm put it off course and set it afire But Nathaniel had taken that into account and the arrow only went a little off centre as it struck the leftmost broodmother in the face, the burning arrow shattering against its skull and spilling now glowing flakes of steel over its face.

It howled in equal parts pain and confusion.

Aim, loose.

Aim, loose.

Distracted the creature's tentacles uselessly swung at the air as Sigrun, her armour glowing with the white light of a healing spell, rushed up its bulbous body. A swing of her right axe took the creature in the throat as she, using the momentum of her run, swung herself over its shoulder and came to stand atop it.

A roar of hatred and the dwarf swung down at the skull of the broodmother. Another roar and she swung at it again. Again and again the swings came, tearing piece of sizzling flesh and burnt bones off the creature's skull as it with a howl tried to reach the dwarf atop it.

A grunt, nearly disappearing in the howls of the combat, and Sigrun rose up...and smashed her foot into the back of the creature's skull, forcing it forward, forcing its now opened skull further into the fiery storm.

A shriek, the tentacles rising high in pain...and then collapsing as the beast went still, sizzling brain-matter dripping out of its scorched skull.

Lynn's armour was glowing as well, but from the heat of the fire she had just rushed through. The elf didn't seem to care though as she, still burning, leapt at the howling broodmother to the right. A thrust of her sword smashed into its gaping maw, through its skull, the still burning blade sending scorched pieces of bone flying. She twisted the blade sideways, forcing the monster's head sideways with a loud crack even as her axe came swinging.

The broodmother's head came off in an explosion of blood, a dark rain of taint that sizzled and boiled as it landed on the Commander's red-hot armour.

"No!" Anders' sudden cry made Nathaniel whirl around, only to take a step back as he saw the sudden darkspawn reinforcement come at them from the rear they thought they had cleansed of enemies. _There's hundreds of them_! "Nathaniel! Get Velanna!" The mage cried out even as his staff struck the ground, making the ground between them and the horde of hurlocks and genlocks become slimy and green, sending the first two stepping upon it hurtling to the ground.

Nathaniel didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing a hold of Velanna's arm and waist he heaved her over his shoulders and jumped backwards, taking cover behind the boulders on the opposite side then before as he watched a dozen arrows blindly arch over the heads of the charging darkspawn struggling to cross the slime covering the ground.

_We can't stop them_...

Nathaniel went cold, his arms feeling distant as they moved to gently drop Velanna down behind the cover so that they could use his bow. It didn't feel real...

Sighing he drew an arrow and sent it into the skull of the foremost genlock, making it stumble into the ones behind it even as two hurlocks pressed past it. One of them fell to a cold spell of Anders, the other to a second arrow, but three genlocks pushed past the dead, grinning with victory even as a bolt of lightning and two more arrows felled them. _And why shouldn't they grin_? Even as those died four hurlocks pressed through, past the slime impeding them, at the two men.

Nathaniel sighed, looking down at the still unconscious Velanna with a painful jab of regret. _This isn't right_..._it_..._I should have_..._I'm_ _sorry_.

Drawing a fresh arrow he took aim at her before closing his eyes.

_I'm_ _sorry_.

"Hell no!" Anders cry made his eyes snap open and his head turn to watch the mage suddenly rush forth, staff held horizontally as the mage bodily crashed into the four hurlocks, taking them off guard and sending them tumbling back into the slime where they slipped and fell into those following them.

_What_ _the_...?

Anders shot Nathaniel a glance, then Velanna, then shook his head with a scowl on his face. A scowl rapidly turning into a grin as he repeated: "Hell no!"

He charged.

The overhand slash of the staff struck a sword raised for a parry, only for the other end to quickly strike the parrying hurlock in the crotch, making it stumble back with a hiss.

A second later the two genlocks flanking it were atop the mage now in the centre of his own grease spell, their curved daggers flashing...and entering the mage's flanks.

_He's_...

Spewing blood Anders doubled over as the mass of darkspawn trudged through the grease, the hurlock closest to him kicking him in the face and dropping him on all fours.

Yet the man managed to cough. "I'm...free..." Anders looked up, his face a torn mess of blood and a hint of exposed bone beneath, his blood-filled mouth grinning at Nathaniel. His eyes became sad for a moment, lost in thoughts of someone else, then twinkled in amusement as they focused back on Nathaniel. "Love her."

Then ice erupted from his hands.

A howl escaped the nearest hurlock as the grease under its feet turned into ice, ice that rushed up its feet, its legs...then its entire body.

The ice spread, becoming part of the grease on the ground, catching the creatures marching over it in its grip, stopping them as they with pained howls looked down at their own bodies becoming frozen. The only one not screaming was Anders, the mage still grinning as the ice travelled up his arms and legs before reaching his torso...and continuing.

It didn't take long, but then the entire area was frozen, more then a dozen hurlocks and genlocks frozen into place, creating a wall of living ice blocking the path of the others. And at its centre...a completely frozen mage, still grinning, as if amused by the spectacle.

It was no use.

With a crash the darkspawn pushed through, swinging swords and maces crushing their own kin, tearing the frozen bodies apart in a frenzied need to kill those not of their own kind.

_It's not fair_...

Even as Nathaniel watched a massive hurlock wielding a great maul of dark steel swung, its head striking the frozen Anders between the shoulderblades. The man cracked, then broke, his upper torso breaking in two parts, his arms snapping at the wrists, his head smashing into the ground, shattering.

Strangely detached Nathaniel could only wonder at how _bright_ the mage's blood seemed against the ice it was spilt over...

The darkspawn roared out in their victory, the horde crashing through the last of their frozen kin, their hatred washing over Nathaniel as he stood there, unable to do anything else, his mind blank. He should kill Velanna, make sure they couldn't get their hands on her...but the moment had passed, he couldn't bring himself to it, he could only stand there.

Stand there and wait.

The rage of the hurlock that had killed Anders burnt into Nathaniel, yet he remained cold as he watched the creature cross the final distance, the head of its maul smeared with bright red blood of the mage as it was pulled back for another swing.

_I'm sorry_..._Velanna_.

Then it stopped, the rage disappearing, turning into a pained howl of fear.

The entire horde stopped with the hurlock, dropping their weapons, howling as their talons reached up to rip at their own faces, wide eyes staring past Nathaniel, making him slowly turn and look down at the chamber below.

He watched Lynn leap from the dead broodmother and straight at the one survivor in the centre that had its thick tentacles wrapped around a struggling Sigrun. The tentacles not trying to crush the dwarf uselessly missed the living missile hurtling at the broodmother...which smashed sword first into its chest, stabbing the blade deep between its ribs.

The axe came down as well, a diagonal slash digging into the other side of the creature's chest as Lynn twisted her sword around within the wound, making the already severely bleeding and scorched broodmother cough in pain.

A wrenching sound from the chest of the broodmother, a hiss escaping the Commander...and the entire ribcage of the broodmother opened up like a flower, its dark ribs almost looking like spidery arms, ready to embrace the woman standing before it.

Lynn's weapons were still stuck in between the creature's ribs, but she didn't bother to wrench them free, instead her foot was pulled back...and then smashed into the opened chest of the broodmother with a crunch.

The broodmother died, its tentacles going limp and dropping Sigrun onto the floor.

And a new howl escaped the darkspawn before him.

Turning Nathaniel found the darkspawn screaming, clawed fingers boring into the their faces, tearing flesh from bone in a horrible display of grief and agony, as if they had just lost a loved one and a limb at the same time.

_Maker save us_...

A last scream escaped the horde...before they as one whirled about and ran back the way they came, scrambling over one another to escape, to leave whatever horror they were experiencing, many falling and being trampled to a bloody paste by the others that in blind panic continued to flee, oblivious to anything but their own fear.

Then there was silence.

And it was deafening.

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her eager aid._


	24. Chapter 24

Nathaniel found himself glancing at her again.

Then he turned his gaze back to watching the others, irritated with himself. _No use taunting yourself_...

With the Knotwood Hills far behind them, the open road before them and a blazing sun it was a beautiful day, one for freeing you of any worries and putting an ease into your steps.

Yet the group making their way towards the distant peak of Vigil's Keep far in the horizon was muted, all for different reasons.

Sigrun was ahead, the dwarf walking with brisk steps as she craned her neck left and right, wide eyes staring in wonder at the greenery around her, her behaviour nearly childish as she grinned at a bee buzzing past her. Though despite the cheery picture of the near prancing dwarf Nathaniel dryly noted that not once did the dwarf look up.

It had been easy for Lynn to convince the dwarf of joining the Wardens. The legion of the dead were already sworn to die fighting darkspawn after all, and with her other companions dead Sigrun hadn't protested too much at the idea of joining them. How anyone could _cheerfully_ shrug and say that 'dying is dying' was beyond Nathaniel however.

Still, to _leave_ the tunnels had been difficult for her. Her previous curiosity about what had been above ground had faded away with the first rays of daylight, the dwarf visibly paling as she inched her way towards the exit, as if unwilling to leave the darkspawn-infested hole of hers in fear of the strange new light. But at the end she had left the tunnel, running out, growling as if challenging the outside to throw its worst at it.

The fear had quickly turned to delight however, save the _one_ time she had glanced up at the sky...she had nearly heaved at the sight, Nathaniel was sure of it. To his surprise _Lynn_ had been the one to ask the dwarf if she was okay, an unreadable look in her eyes, if he hadn't known better Nathaniel would have sworn the woman had been looking sadly _nostalgic_.

_Lynn_...Nathaniel shifted his focus

Behind the dwarf Lynn was marching, her cleaned armour glowing in silver and gold. Despite the warmth of the sun beating down on them she still had her helmet on, even the visor remained closed, nearly completely hiding her amber eyes as they coldly watched a world ripe with life, as if finding something insulting with it.

With her sword and axe sheathed she still held two items in her hands, something she hadn't let go of since they had left the Knotwood Hills. One was the length of her forearm, the other merely a hand long...two of the pieces of Anders' staff. Even now the pieces looked brittle in the woman's hands, the staff having been damaged by magical frost and then crushed under the feet of many darkspawn.

Nathaniel held his own piece in his right hand, it's texture rough against his hands, the wood feeling as if it had been scorched, despite the opposite having happened to it. He wasn't sure _why_ the Commander had given him a piece...perhaps the look in his eyes as he watched her pick the pieces that were still intact up? Whatever the reason he had vowed to keep the piece, as a reminder of what he had been given, though it was unlikely he would ever forget.

Again his gaze flickered to the _other_ elf, finding her shooting him a shy glance...

Both looked away.

Velanna had not taken the news of Anders death all that well. Nathaniel could understand her, she had scorned the other mage, clearly disliked him...yet he had saved her life by giving his own, it had to be eating away at her. _Perhaps she's thinking of those merchants she killed as well_? _Is she thinking she's committed a crime against not only Anders, but against humans_? _That __would__ hurt her pride_...

Nathaniel held his tongue though, not daring to ask.

While Anders death had muted the woman Nathaniel _knew_ he could bring her out of it...yet he found it impossible to even _start_ a conversation for some reason, as if a great void had opened up between them.

Velanna had woken up while he was still carrying her, which had created a strange reaction from her. First she had nearly smiled, still half asleep and perhaps thinking he was some elf from her clan, then she had paled, realizing it was him...and _shrieked_ at him, or rather 'the shem', to let her go.

He had of course let her down, watching her face flush with embarrassment even as he found himself looking away. She hadn't meant it, he knew it, it had just been a shock for her, perhaps even furthered by the magic-induced exhaustion she still suffered from. Yet it reminded him of their differences...of their old history, him a former human noble, her a former keeper, natural enemies. _Guess we have the whole 'outcast' thing in common then_..._a fresh beginning without any centuries of conflict and all that romantic bull_. He nearly snorted at the thought, his shoulders sloping.

And then there were Anders final words..._ 'Love her'_..._had_ _to_ _say_ _that_ _didn't_ _you_? Nathaniel found himself smiling faintly at the thought, wondering if Anders had said it as a last practical joke at Nathaniel's expense, if so it was working...and it would be the first which actually brought a smile to Nathaniel's lips, however fading it might be. _No, it hadn't been a joke_. The smile died, it had been a _command_...and Nathaniel had no idea how to obey it.

_Do I even __want__ to_?

Nathaniel sighed, feeling a squeezing sensation around his chest. _I_..._yes_. He nearly shrugged, realising he had already known the answer. Yet how did one _do_ that? Nathaniel knew he wasn't bad-looking, he had had his share of tousles with the opposite sex while growing up, while the Howe's were still respected he had been well aware that he was seen as quite a catch among the nobles of Ferelden.

But those women had always...lacked something...vitality perhaps. They were stiff and dull, simple to read, easy to please. What did Nathaniel care for a woman that could recite poems by heart and who danced perfectly? Such things were all fine and well...but there was no passion in it, just knowledge...and Nathaniel had long ago realised that he wanted more then a woman with good breeding. He hadn't known _what_ he wanted...but he had realised what he _didn't_ want, a start it had seemed...

In his younger days he had already been calm and calculating, it had been easy to charm the noblewomen back then, it was a simple matter of finding out their interests and then working with it. He had grown bored with such games ages ago however...there was no excitement in it, frankly it was beneath him and dishonourable to the women in question...so he had stopped.

And now it was different, he felt...he frowned..._nervous_? _That can't be right_...

He found himself glancing at Velanna again.

_Perhaps I should_..._try talking to her_? _But how_? _Assure her I realised she meant nothing with the 'shem' comment_? _Would that just make her defensive_? _But at least we would be talking then_..._instead of merely these frustrating touches_. Even as he thought the thought Velanna, obviously still weak, stumbled for the forty-third time...Nathaniel kept count...only to be saved from dropping onto the ground by Nathaniel's timely hand.

As always she instantly pulled back at the touch even as she shot him a slight nod of thanks...and as always Nathaniel felt as if the distance between them grew, as if his touch repelled her from him.

Nathaniel frowned. _I_..._don't_ _know_ _what_ _to_ _say_. _I_..._there's_ _nothing_ _to_ _argue_ _about_..._is_ _there_? _I_..._doubt_ _arguing_ _would_ _help_ _though_..._would_ _it_? _Maker, where did my calm go_? He rubbed his sweaty palms against her leather armour, frustrated with himself. _This isn't like me_..._damn_ _Anders! S__hould I try to initiate a discussion with someone else and hope Velanna is dragged into it_? _Would she see through such a ruse_? _Yes she would_..._she's too clever not to_..._but would she play along_? _Or maybe she would just ignore it_..._maybe I'm just fooling myself_? _Am_ _I_..._fooling_ _myself_? _After all I haven't known her for that long, though it feels like a lifetime_, _and it's not like she has really expressed any interest_..._has_ _she_? _Then_ _again_ _who_ _could_ _tell_ _with_ _us_ _two_? _Maybe_ _she's_ _just_ _trying_ _to_ _be_ _friendly_?

Then Velanna cleared her throat.

_Or maybe I'm __thinking__ too much and not __doing__ enough_? _She's braver then me, doesn't over-think things_..._perhaps_-

"I...did not mean what I said back there." Her words stopped Nathaniel's useless torrent of thoughts in their tracks, she didn't have to specify what she was referring to, he knew.

"Of course not my lady, I apologise if me carrying you was..." Nathaniel found himself uncharacteristicly struggling for words...then settled for something somewhat neutral: "...uncomfortable."

"It wa-" The elf stopped herself short of whatever she was about to say, in the corner of his vision Nathaniel saw her hesitate, then look away. "I am grateful for the assistance."

"We are allies, of course I'll assist you." Nathaniel grimaced at his own words, regretting them as he remembered him and her having a similar discussion ages ago.

Judging by Velanna's silence she hadn't found the words all that encouraging.

"I mean...my pleasure." Nathaniel meekly said, grimacing at his own idiocy. _Taking so long to say that_..._it's a wonder she hasn't insulted me for acting foolishly yet_.

No insult was forthcoming though, only a low: "I...that is well then."

_'Well then'_? _What does that mean_? _Should_ _I_ _ask_? _Or_ _perhaps_... "Are you...well? I..." He gestured for her bared legs that dragged slightly as she walked, then found himself looking away as a heat built up around his neck. "...cannot help but notice you are weary, d-do you require assistance?"

"I've received assistance forty-three times now..." Velanna muttered, a slight tone of uncertain amusement in her voice even as Nathaniel blinked. _She counted them as well._..? "...as to my weariness...I suppose there's no denying it?" A small chuckle, surprising Nathaniel, Velanna wasn't one for laughing, at least not so easily. "I...it will be fine if I get some time to myself, to meditate."

"Ah." Nathaniel smiled weakly, irritated with the twinge of disappointment he felt with that. _Guess I'll spend the afternoon making new arrows_...

"Yes..." Velanna muttered, with Nathaniel having given her nothing to answer to he wasn't surprised when she with a shrug looked away from him. _Dammit_...

The silence stretched, awkward and far too intrusive to Nathaniel's liking.

"You have been very...thoughtful as of late." Velanna spoke again, and the words made cold sweat pour down Nathaniel's back as he found his heart smash against the ribs in a futile rebellion, nearly tripping him. "More so then usual...is something amiss?"

"I..." Nathaniel bit his tongue, feeling a surge of panic as he tried to come up with a way out while at the same time he was trying to get himself to be honest. _Damn_ _Anders_!

Velanna cocked her head to the side, watching him with a frown of mild confusion, obviously surprised that she had managed to stump him so easily.

_Failure_. "...was thinking of the Grey Warden taint." It was a half-truth, he _had_ thought about it...a good while...but it was some time ago...and not at all what made him thoughtful at the moment._ I'm a lousy coward_..._when_ _did_ _that_ _happen_?

"Oh? What of it?" Velanna asked, arching a curious eyebrow, if she was interested or merely wishing to keep him talking Nathaniel couldn't tell, his skills of observation as if blown away.

"We..." He nearly bit his tongue. "...Grey Wardens in general I mean...we cannot have children."

No answer but a shrug, Velanna apparently not caring too much for that loss, yet her eyes still watched him, attentive.

He shook his head and forced himself to remember the old thoughts, which shouldn't have been so difficult if it wasn't for that nagging feeling that he should be talking about something else, something more...constructive. "I...was a noble...and I am still a Howe." He grimaced, old anger flaring up at the words. "It is..._frustrating_ to think that even _if_ I manage to recover the honour lost to my family name there won't be anyone to carry it on to...the line will die with me. It makes the struggle less...motivated."

Silence, the elf still holding her head cocked, frowning as she struggled to comprehend his problem.

_It doesn't matter much_. Nathaniel looked away and sighed, the sadness of the old thoughts making itself reminded once more._ It is done, I'll endure, not lay down and die_.

"I have never cared for my family name." Velanna said, making Nathaniel frown as he glanced back at her, finding her looking straight ahead, smirking ever so slightly even as Nathaniel realised he had no idea what it was, she had never told anyone, perhaps not regarding it as important. "Why should I care of deeds done by others of my blood? I can understand parental pride perhaps...but for some ancestor? What do their deeds say of me?"

Nathaniel didn't answer, knowing that she was right, _yet_...

"But my _own_ name...now _that_ is important." Velanna still didn't look at him, her gaze distant, her smirk turning bitter. "I want to be remembered as a good and honourable woman, strong and who helped my people...is that strange?" Nathaniel could offer nothing but a shake of his head, though Velanna didn't seem to see it as she continued, still off in thoughts. "_That_ is something to strive for, _that_ is something worth suffering. Whatever those before me might have done _I_ can be the one _good_ person...or the one _bad_...either way I'll be remembered for who _I_ am, not what my family has done or been." She turned to him, bright grey eyes surprisingly soft in the harsh sunlight, as was her tone: "Do you understand?"

"I..." Nathaniel blinked, surprised with Velanna's behaviour, even more so by how much _sense_ she made...he knew she was intelligent, but it was usually tempered by her mood...which seemed blown away. "..._yes_..." He blinked, frowned. _Nathaniel Howe is a good man __despite__ his parentage_..._or simply __Nathaniel__ is a good man_..._I_..._why_ _not_? _Why carry a burden that isn't really there_? He blinked, remembering that Velanna was still watching him, looking a bit amused at the moment. "...thank you...my lady." He swallowed, then remembered his manners and inclined his head in a slight bow.

The woman's shoulders visible tensed...then relaxed as she looked away, face distant as she answered: "Any time my..." She frowned, looking bemused as she pondered her words. "...ser?"

Nathaniel tossed his head back and laughed.

The two women ahead of him jumped at the unexpected sound, Sigrun smirking at him while Lynn shot him a frosty glare. Nathaniel couldn't help it though, his short explosion of a laugh turning into a calmer but tireless chuckle as he glanced at Velanna. The woman was looking at him with a face conflicted between a smile and a glare, as if she wasn't sure if he was laughing at her or if she should be amused by him suddenly expressing amusement so loudly. "I never thought to hear that word from your lips! Not in a thousand years!"

"Did you now?" Velanna glowered at him, making Nathaniel hesitate, only to smirk at his reaction before shrugging and looking away. "I can be polite...but only when another deserves it." She shot him a shy glance at that.

Nathaniel bowed his head at the words, not wishing to tarnish the moment with words. _Thank_ _you_...

Lynn's scoff made them both blink and look away from one another and back ahead, finding themselves inside the outer courtyard.

_Huh_? _When_ _did_ _we_ _reach_ _the_ _castle_? _I_ _didn't_ _notice_ _anything_... He shook his head in irritation even as a smile stole its way to his lips. _I'm_ _getting_ _sloppy_..._yes_..._that's_ _it_...he stole a glance at Velanna..._sloppy_...

Then he forced himself to pay attention.

The gate to the inner courtyard was closed, ten men stationed behind the gate, a dozen more with bows atop the wall, looking down at a strange assembly outside the gate.

The seneschal was there, the grey-haired old man looking awfully uncomfortable as he in full armour and greatsword faced off against a beast he didn't know how to handle; An angry group of ten villagers, four women and six men, all angrily raising their fists as they hollered at the seneschal, apparently having had a long argument with the man already and by now merely shouting curses at him.

Looking up the elderly man visibly sagged with relief at the sight of Lynn striding forth, if she was tired from their long march under the scorching sun it didn't show, as Nathaniel had learnt to expect by now. "What is this?" The elf's words were nearly barks from within her helmet, metallic and unreal. "Seneschal, report."

The man nodded eagerly even as the shouting of the villagers turned into heated glares sent in the direction of the Commander as they turned to face the new arrival. "I...yes Commander, these are representatives sent from surrounding villages wishing to-"

"We are tired of being bled white by you!" One of the women interrupted with a loud growl, glaring at Lynn only to deflect her eyes when the elf looked back at her, though her glare remained as the villagers continued, a hand coming up to brush a black tendril of her hair back, making Nathaniel aware of just how taut her skin sat around her skull, as if all excess flesh had been burnt away by the sun above. _Starvation_. "The taxes have _doubled_ since you came here! Not only that but the lords now increase their taxes to give _you_ men!"

"Yes!" A man echoed her sentiment with a raised fist, shaking it towards the Commander as he, though of solid built there was a certain..._raggedness_ to him...more so then usual for a farmer. Life had been harsh on him. "And then your men show up and want food and lodgings! _What_ food! We've given it all!"

Lynn remained impassive, her head cocked to the side as she watched the villagers continue, working themselves up once more.

A man, pale and red-haired, showing just how dirty he had become, and drawing attention to the dark rings under his eyes, continued: "And they're _useless_! There's darkspawn everywhere! They're trampling or fields! Burning our storages! Killing our cattle! And your men mostly end up _running_ _away_ and _hiding_ in the nearest fort!"

_Preserving their strength_. Nathaniel dryly realized that the soldiers were doing what they were supposed to do, but it was an argument he knew wouldn't bite on farmers watching their land and livelihood turn to ash before them. And yes, he had noticed there were more darkspawn as of late, which of course led to more farms suffering their predations...it was sad but unavoidable.

But how to make that case? _And would the Commander even bother_? Nathaniel felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach at the thought as he watched the elf remain silent, regarding the villagers, thinking.

Another woman spoke up, this one dressed in a dress that had been torn and frayed at the edges, slightly stained with soot from some fire. Her tanned face looked haunted and weary, a red scar running down the side of her skull. "They burnt my house! Killed my cattle and nearly me too! All the while _your_ men hid in their little fort! I _demand_ something to be done! I _demand_ you-!"

"You are brave to come here." Lynn interrupted, the calm tone coming from within her helmet strange compared to the anger slamming into her, strange and demanding silence. Still with her head cocked the elf continued: "You are the bravest of the villagers then? Those who stand up for the others?"

The scarred woman blinked and took a step back, confused. But a man, dark-skinned and broad-shouldered, stepped forth, glaring down at the armoured elf. "_All_ support us, we are all _sick_ of this." His voice rumbled, his gaze steady as he held Lynn's gaze, making Nathaniel blink. _Impressive._ "We speak for all, we their representatives."

"The bravest then." Lynn remarked, tone calm and calculating. "Coming here with demands, for your people." Nathaniel frowned at the words. _What is she getting at_?

"Damn right we are!" The scarred woman had recovered from her confusion and pushed past the dark-skinned man, a raised hand pointing a sharp finger at Lynn while her eyes narrowed. "We will not be bullied like the others! Do you hear me! Fereldens are a _free_ people and will not be reduced to slavery because _you_-!"

Then she screamed, her arm coming off at the elbow in a fountain of blood.

The scream instantly came to a stop when Lynn spun with her swing though, the axe following the swing of her sword slicing though the neck of the woman and dropping her head at the feat of the dark-skinned villager as her twitching body collapsed."

"Y-you..." The man blinked, his face splattered with the blood of the woman as the other villagers took a frightened step back, he too stunned to do the same as he stared in horror at the Commander. '

Nathaniel couldn't help but feel the same shock, he and all others around staring at the scene as if it was a dream, neither soldiers on the walls, nor the seneschal or any of Lynn's companions moving, all of them statues as they tried to come to terms with the sudden explosion of violence.

"..k-killed her." The man shook his head sluggishly, lip quivering. "I...do-"

Then Lynn was pressing up against the man, her sword buried through his chest, making his eyes bulge as he gasped for a breath that would not come, large hands scrambling for Lynn's shoulders even as he sagged and dropped backwards into the dirt of the courtyard.

The villagers scattered, screaming.

And Nathaniel could only watch as Lynn followed. Despite her long march, despite her massive suit of armour, she moved quickly and efficiently...while the villagers were in shock, terror making their movement slow and confused, eyes blind to where they should go.

There a woman fell, her right leg separated by the hip.

There a man fell, ribs crushed by the weight of the armoured elf landing atop his back even as she buried her axe into his skull before leaping onwards.

There a terrified woman and man dropped on their knees in terror, raising their hands in surrender...only for both to loose their heads as the Commander simply rushed past them with swinging blades.

It was over within moments.

It had felt like a lifetime.

Staring in a mix of horror and fascination he watched Lynn sheathe her weapons, her amber eyes nearly glowing through her visor she coldly regarded the dead around her, as if they were nothing but sacks of meat to be weighed and measured.

Nathaniel felt sick, yet he couldn't look away. _These_..._they_ _were_ _your_ _people_..._I_... There was no words for what he had seen, so sudden and..._uncalled_ for.

"Seneschal Varel." The Commander spoke, her voice even as ever, uncaring, making Nathaniel grimace. _Monster_...

"C-commander?" The man stammered, raising his hand for a salute...then forgetting the hand mid-movement as he stared at the carnage. His hand dropped, along with his shoulders, making him look all the older all of a sudden.

The Commander didn't seem to notice, or rather, _care_. "Take the heads of these bodies to their respective villages, I want them on pikes in their squares, is that understood?"

Varel's eyes bulged, but he nodded in mute horror.

"Is that _understood_?" A slight hiss in the woman's tone, eyes behind the visor narrowing at the seneschal.

"Y-yes Commander." Varel managed, his voice hushed, as if fearing he'd disturb the dead around him.

"Good. Burn the rest of the bodies." Lynn marched towards the inner gate that was only now slowly opening, the guards behind it moving away even before she reached it, as if afraid of being near her. _Probably_ _are_... "There won't be any more dissension from the farmers after this I'm sure, and if there is it'll be _your_ head."

The seneschal visibly shook where he stood, staring at the dead around him, looking older by the moment, as if the sight of them was enough to do what time could not.

Nathaniel understood him, his own horror of seeing the dead still too fresh to truly comprehend. _My_ _people_...

"Y-yes Commander..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her continued patience and support._


	25. Chapter 25

Sigrun sighed as she eased herself down into the warmth, content.

It was strange, a bath in _warm_ water...Sigrun had never had one before and groaned as she arched her back, feeling something in her lower back pop into place. Back when she had been living in Dust Town she'd never had a bath _at_ _all_, usually you just towelled yourself off with a rag as dirty as _you_ were, and in the legion they bathed at times, sure, but the underground lakes of water they found were nearly always cold to the point of freezing.

But _here_...Sigrun took in the luxury of a bathroom nearly the size of an armoury and shook her head in wonder. The large pool she was relaxing in was in the corner of the bathroom and nearly covered a quarter of the room. It was made in large grey boulders, but the inside was covered in smooth green stones, so smooth Sigrun nearly slipped forward whenever she let go of the edge of the pool. At the opposite end a set of four sinks stood, made of dark wood with steel tubes sticking out of the top. _Only nobles must live in such extravagance_...

Sigrun was dimly aware that the Vigil's Keep had been a castle of a noble, at least once, heck, she had heard that human that had been there when she awoke after her joining was the _son_ of the noble that had _lost_ the castle! Yet at the moment such fascinating tales were far away...a distant wonder as steam rose from water white with whatever oils and soaps the elven servants had poured into it. _Whatever it is I like it_..._makes_ _my_ _skin_ _all_ _tingly_. A small giggle escaped Sigrun as she eased back a little, watching the toes of her feet suddenly push up through the water, ten tiny islands bobbing in the milky water. _Maybe being on the outside won't be so bad_..._if_ _one_ _can_ _ignore_ _the_ _ceiling_.

She barely shuddered when she glanced up, finding solid wooden beams across a stone ceiling. It wasn't dwarven engineering that was for sure...but it looked solid...which was a comfort, making the blue sky somewhere above seem more distant.

Still, the hot water served its purpose, washing away the grime of her work in the Deep Roads and turning aside all her worries of the future and present. There _was_ a sky, but Sigrun couldn't care She had lost her legionary friends...and though gone they had all died well...and Sigrun couldn't grieve any longer. She had had a nightmare, caused by the taint if Nathaniel was to be believed, and though dreaming _at_ _all_ was terrifying for a dwarf...Sigrun couldn't worry too much about it now, it was just another distant worry.

_If only there was some company_.

When Sigrun had entered the bathroom that other woman had been there, Mha...something. Sigrun had of course tried to start a conversation, trying to get to know her fellow warden and all that, not to mention that she felt the need to express sympathy for the death of the mage that had saved them from being overwhelmed. She had after all heard that the Mha...something...had been in some sort of relationship, again information that Nathaniel had volunteered...and Sigrun knew even veterans of war needed comfort from such losses.

The human woman had left when Sigrun entered though, simply gotten out of her bath, wrapped a towel around herself and with a lowered face brushed past Sigrun, her face distant and clearly wishing to be alone._ Being alone with your grief never works in the end girl_... Sigrun sighed again, this time without contentment, as she straightened a bit in the pool. _At least there seems to be ample opportunities to join him_..._there are far too many darkspawn in the fields then I thought __existed_... She shrugged at the thought, her time would come when it felt like it, at the _moment_ she felt no need to rush into it...she eased further into the pool.

Then the door opened.

Keeping her hands resting on the ledge of the pool Sigrun watched with amusement as the elf Sigrun so far hadn't exchanged a single word with entered the room, her head bowed in thoughts and not noticing Sigrun where she sat. The woman had struck Sigrun as a bit stuck up, but at least it was someone...and Sigrun wasn't about to complain about the quality of the company. _Damn, might as well have some fun while I'm at it_...Sigrun grinned at the thought.

With a click the door swung shut.

"So..." The elf jumped at Sigrun's voice, wide eyes searching the room for the source of the, then narrowed her eyes as she found Sigrun relaxing against the furthest edge of the pool. "...Velanna was it? Feeling better now?"

The elf _looked_ better. Sigrun didn't know anything of magic, but whatever magic-induced exhaustion Nathaniel had mentioned as he sat with the newly awakened Sigrun, all the while wringing his hands, seemed gone from the elf, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. Not to mention she stood straighter now then she had done back on the road, straighter and prouder...nearly arrogantly.

The other woman's narrowing of eyes eased a little even as she glanced at the door, obviously considering leaving. "Yes I am...thank you." Her tone was guarded, as if expecting some sort of danger from the naked dwarf so obviously enjoying her bath. _Suspicious aren't we_...?

Sigrun smiled, genuinely amused with the elf's discomfort. "Just asking, we're allies after all, have to look after one another." For some reason the elf flinched at that, but Sigrun ignored it as she gestured for the milky water. "Come, I'm sure you're here for a bath..." She eyed the dust and grime still clinging to the mage, the woman obviously having rested before thinking of freshening up. "...and I could use some company."

Velanna arched an eyebrow at Sigrun and raised her chin, searching for mockery even as a hand ghosted towards the handle to the door.

_Wow, got chip on your shoulder or what_? _What does Nathaniel see in this one_? "Hey, I always bathed together with my legion, being alone like this is a bit odd for me..." Sigrun shrugged, it was the truth after all. "...not to mention that I'm pretty sure this place was meant for several to bathe as one." She then smirked, watching the still hesitant elf with amusement. "Unless you're...afraid?"

Instantly Velanna scoffed, the elf shrugging as she searched for a peg on the wall...which she quickly found nearly touching her right shoulder. Her voice remained perfectly neutral as she spoke: "I bathed with others in my clan..."

"Good!" Sigrun chuckled, seeing that the woman was still clearly uncomfortable, yet hiding it as best she could as she moved her hands back to find whatever clasp held the flimsy robe of hers together. _This could be fun_... "Heck, I've never seen a naked elf before, could be interesting."

Velanna stopped mid-move, eyes darting to the door again, considering her escape. But her pride was too great for her to leave now and Sigrun watched with amusement as the elf squared her shoulders and, completely ignoring Sigrun, snapped something at the back of her neck open. An instant later her robe fell and became a crumpled pile of cloth around her feet.

Sigrun found herself blinking even as the elf picked up the flimsy garment and hung it on the peg on the wall before moving to peel off the tight boots reaching her knees. Sigrun had heard that elves and humans considered dwarven women somewhat plump and 'sturdy'...though no self-respecting dwarven woman would ever agree to such a description...it was hard not to understand such an opinion at the sight of the elf before her.

Watching the elf with feigned confidence stride towards the pool, still stoically ignoring her, Sigrun couldn't help but wonder at her _scrawniness_. Besides those _abnormally_ large breasts of the elf the woman was all skin and bones to Sigrun's eyes, tanned flesh pulled taunt against thin bones, giving her a frail impression to the dwarf, as if she would break from the slightest pressure._ Are __all__ elves like that_? _How do they even survive tripping_?

Then there was the elf's hair, or rather, _lack_ of hair. Sigrun wouldn't call herself hairy after all, but at least there was _some_ besides the pigtailed hairdo atop her skull...but apparently elves didn't need to shave their legs, nor _anything_... Sigrun grimaced, finding the sight disturbing for some reason. _It's as if she is a child_...

All in all the elf's hairlessness and scrawniness, combined with those extremely long ears she sported, made her look like a half-starved nug to Sigrun's eyes, alien and strange.

A small sigh escaped the elf as she stepped over the edged and into the water, slipping into the milky liquid and thankfully hiding her alien body to Sigrun's eyes. _Though I think I'll keep the image of her as a nug_. Sigrun forced her smirk into a smile as she met Velanna's slightly narrowed eyes: "See? Haven't bitten you yet."

"_Very_ amusing." The elf snorted as she scooted deeper into the pool, her narrowed eyes becoming relaxed as the still steaming water did its thing. "This is...good." A small sigh, the elf's eyes closing as she leant her head back against the ledge of the pool, shoulders dropping as an unnamed tension disappeared.

Sigrun nodded and eased back against her own ledge, happy that the water took the edge of the elf. "Oh yes, far better then the ice-cold water back in the Deep Roads..."

"Or the lakes in the forest..." Velanna muttered, hands coming up to pull the pins in her hair free as she kept her eyes closed in relaxation. "..they were nice of course, but _this_...it...makes your skin tingle." The pins dropped to the floor behind the elf as her blonde hair spilled free, tresses of it dropping into the water. With her hair down the elf looked remarkably softer...almost _kind_.

"I noticed that too." Sigrun remarked, then smirked as she decided to have some sport. "Guess it's almost as good as watching that Nathaniel move eh?"

Velanna's eyes opened with a snap, her back straightening, what illusion of kindness her loose hair had created instantly gone as she glared at Sigrun. Her voice was but a hiss: "What are you _talking_ about dwarf?"

Sigrun kept smirking as she shrugged. "Oh nothing, he's nice and all...but not to worry, won't try to move into your territory."

She bit her tongue at that, holding her laugh back as she watched Velanna's angular face darken in a blush that she, admittedly, did a good job at ignoring as she rolled her eyes. "Bah, what do I care of the she...human? You go ahead, it would be amusing to watch." The elf closed her eyes, trying to look relaxed again, though the way her shoulders bunched was a clear indication of her tension.

"I suppose..." Sigrun held back a chuckle as she shrugged. "...though it's pretty hard for any girl to get a man when he's so intent on staring at _another_...it's bad for your self-esteem."

Velanna's cheek twitched, her body shifting slightly to the right as she struggled with herself, struggled and _lost_... "A-another?"

"Oh yes." Sigrun nodded, despite the fact that Velanna couldn't see it, enjoying herself immensely. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed, considering he keeps glancing at you like a lovestruck puppy."

Somehow Velanna's blush actually got darker as she shifted to the left, head turning sideways even as she kept her eyes closed, her mouth a thin line: "Bah, what do _I_ care?"

This time the chuckle escaped her. "A lot?"

Silence.

Sigrun watched the elf, still keeping her eyes firmly shut as she tried to ignore Sigrun's words. Smirking the dwarf eased back, watching the elf's struggle through nearly closed eyes as she soaked in the warmth of the bath. _Relaxation_ _and_ _a_ _show_..._this_ _is_ _great_.

Finally Velanna spoke, when she did it was with a snort: "I fail to see how this is any of your business."

_Ah_, _admission_? Sigrun opened her mouth to speak-

Only to slam it shut as the door opened once more.

As far as Sigrun understood the others found Lynn frightening. She herself had found people similar to the elf in the legion, though never so severe...and as such didn't feel the same worry when she found the elf in a brown tunic, trousers and a the weapons she never seemed to walk without close the door behind her. "Ah, Lynn, welcome, come to bathe with us?" Velanna flinched at Sigrun's question and scooted to the elf and closer to Sigrun, apparently not daring to be in the way if their leader would enter.

"That's _Commander_ to you." The new arrival coldly replied, meeting Sigrun's eyes, making a shiver run down her spine, but not managing to force the dwarf to look away. Sigrun got the distinct impression the elf appreciated that as she shrugged and moved to unbuckle her belt "And yes,."

"Good! The more the merrier!" Sigrun cheerfully exclaimed, enjoying the way Velanna grimaced at the words. Lynn didn't seem to have heard it though as she quickly hung her belt on another peg in the wall before moving to nearly throw her tunic and trousers off. "We were just talking abo..." Sigrun's cheerfulness died along with her words.

The Commander was _scarred_.

Sure, Sigrun sported her own set of scars. A small pale mark at her lower back when a man in Dust Town had stabbed her over a piece of nug-meat, a jagged one along her right arm from a darkspawn axe, a third along her hip from a long fall from a bridge in the Deep Roads...but nothing _near_ what the elf before her sported.

Like Velanna Lynn was oddly hairless and scrawny. Yet she was different, _paler_, and the scrawniness only made the corded muscles of the woman stand out all the more. Somehow she was even more skin and bones than Velanna, at the point of starvation, making her pale skin look like thin paper as it was pulled tight around the muscled frame of the elf.

Yet it was the scars that stood out. Despite the woman being so pale they were clearly visible...and _everywhere_. A jagged one, wide and wicked-looking, nearly covered the entirety of her right shoulder. _Whatever did that_..._the arm shouldn't be attached any more_. An uneven and slightly puckered one was drawn horizontally over her left breast, three wide ones were drawn diagonally across her stomach, a curved one over her entire left forearm. And along with those there _dozens_ more, ghostly white and covering the woman's body. Legs, feet, hands, arms, torso, even her neck...nothing had avoided the scars that ranged from tiny little pricks to long curved ones, each one marking a potentially lethal cut or thrust.

_A map of pain and death_... _This_ time Sigrun looked away, feeling humbled.

A sloshing sound and Lynn entered the pool, in contrast to the others she didn't sigh, she merely dropped into the water and begun to rub her arms, rubbing the filth off them, clearly not intent on enjoying the warmth of the water. Even as Sigrun watched the elf spoke, not sounding the least curious: "Talking about what?"

"Erm..." Sigrun shook her head, forcing herself to recover. To her right and between her and Lynn Velanna sat, the other elf clearly looking uncomfortable, yet staring at the Commander, obviously having been equally shocked by the many scars across their leader. "...Velanna's crush on Nathaniel."

The mage's glare was withering, nearly making Sigrun shirk away before she remembered who she was. _Dammit_, _she_ _reminds_ _me_ _of_ _my_ _mother_. As such Sigrun was almost relieved when she found Lynn's scrubbing of her arms ceasing as she raised her head, looking at Velanna with cold eyes. "Really?"

"I do not have a _crush_ on the human!" Velanna growled, shooting Sigrun a final glare before looking over to Lynn with a frustrated look on her face. "The dwarf here is just being a fool!"

Chuckling at the horrible insult Sigrun watched as Lynn shrugged and returned her attention to scrubbing her arms. "Good, it's forbidden."

"Exactly!" Velanna nodded furiously before looking over to Sigrun with a glare and gesturing for the Commander. "See! It's..." Then she blinked and turned back to Lynn: "...what?"

"It's forbidden." Lynn repeated, not looking up at her fellow elf as she raised a leg out of the water and begun to scrub it clean as well.

"I didn't know of that." Sigrun remarked, surprised, she after all had a bit of a love of books and had already read most of the rules of the wardens, despite the short time she had had on her.

"It's..." Velanna shook her head, looking confused as she kept looking at Lynn, a frown on her face. "...it's not...is it? I've never heard of that..." Then she glanced over at Sigrun with a small look of panic in her eyes. "...not that I _care_ or anything..."

_Of course not_... Sigrun couldn't summon her amusement though as she felt a strange dread creep up her spine at the way Lynn kept ignoring Velanna while now scrubbing her other leg. "Not by warden rules, by me, no relationships within the wardens."

"You can't do that!" Velanna spluttered, a look of horror crossing her face before she remembered herself. "I mean...we have rules and such for a _reason_...you can't just _add_-"

"My command, my rules." Lynn replied, her voice cold as she looked over at Velanna, meeting the other elf's large eyes.

Then there was silence.

Velanna's wide eyes narrowed, not looking away, yet they weren't _hostile_, they were something else, something that Sigrun couldn't quite place.

Silence.

Something passed between the two women, a silent communication Sigrun wasn't privy to.

Then they both looked away.

"I am done here." Lynn didn't look up at either of the women as she stepped out of the pool, nor when she moved to towel herself, nor when she dressed, not even when she went out the door, quietly closing it behind herself.

"So..." Sigrun tried, but found herself unable to continue as she watched Velanna.

The elf had sunk low into the pool, her face lowered, her chin touching the water as she with distant eyes looked down into the pool. She looked...tired...confused...and Sigrun wasn't sure why.

"I...think I'm done as well." The elf didn't even glance at Sigrun as she too moved to leave.

And then she was alone.

Slipping deeper into the water Sigrun shook her head, her cheerful mood ruined as she realised new tensions had appeared, despite the warmth of the water.

"Bloody surfacers..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for sticking around._


	26. Chapter 26

At first glance none could tell he didn't belong there.

He walked with his head held high, stance relaxed, his clothes a simple garment in the royal colours everyone in Vigil's Keep wore, another servant, nothing amiss.

Anything else but a first glance would tell you otherwise however. While his walk was relaxed and casual, it made no sound, one couldn't hear him approach. While his clothes were simple ones fit for a servant they sat too loose over him, at first glance concealing the trim waist and wide shoulders of a man _not_ making his living as a servant, not to mention concealing a set of extremely light black leather armour. The fact he was a tall human, with his skin tanned under a sun he'd been under for many a time also marked him out from any regular servant.

His dark brown trousers were smudged with dirt from when he had eased himself over crenelations, flecks of blood still stuck to his hands from where he had slain the odd guard in his path...and he was smiling charmingly, knowing the smile would draw attention to his face rather then any other oddities for a precious moment if he bumped into anyone.

And he would only need a moment.

On the inside Taliesin was torn however. In his blood burned a desire for vengeance, for the death of the woman that had caused him pain, surprisingly much so considering he hadn't thought himself able to care for his lovers, old or new, any more. Such desires were dangerous however, and he suppressed them, which was easy considering the cloak of fear enveloping him.

For this was no mere target. True, wardens, even warden Commanders, had been assassinated before, by the Crows or otherwise...but this was no mere warden, this was the damned Hero of Ferelden! The slayer of dragons, scourge of darkspawn and probably the greatest warrior that had lived for _centuries_!

Not to mention the precautions taken, he had been hired through middle-men, not surprising given his line of work, but there had been more then usual...and all had ended up dead at the end. Taliesin _knew_ he was good though, a great asset to the Crows, as such they would not kill him unless there was a chance that he could be traced or identified...as such he had so far killed anyone spotting him, thankful that the night kept most people asleep or otherwise occupied. The signal was clear though, they wanted _no_ evidence of Crow involvement, nor of their employer, revealed...and Taliesin felt himself sweat a little at the danger he was in by simply having accepted the mission.

_So what's worse_? _Getting killed by vengeful Fereldens or professional Crows_? The answer was obvious, but Taliesin didn't like the idea of being torn apart by an angry mob all that much either, especially not if they would have their chantry priests call down the curse of the Maker upon him. _As if my soul could be saved_... He almost scoffed at the idea, _almost_.

He was still smiling when he turned the final corner of the halls he'd been wandering, having memorized the twists and turns of the Keep a week ago. All was already planned, he _knew_ the other two waited at the other end of the hall, having arrived a few moments before him.

It had all been planned meticulously, another sign of how worried the Crows were about the target surviving and wreaking vengeance, she was not known for mercy after all. Not to mention a sign about how well paid they'd been by clients just as anxious as the professionals for nothing to go wrong.

The hall was a full thirty feet in length, a single wooden door at the right side and centre of the well-lit hall. The two guards there were in full heavy mail armour, both with shields and swords that were now being drawn as they turned to face him. _Quick and alert_..._seems all the guards are like that in this keep, their Commander must make them nervous_. Taliesin nearly grinned at the thought as he reached back behind him with his hands, easily finding the blade tucked into his belt.

"You there! There is to be no traffic through this hall." The closest guard growled while pointing his sword at Taliesin , eyes narrowed in irritation over the servant that probably had gotten himself lost.

Taliesin 's smile remained, as much for his own benefit...since it somehow bolstered his courage, as if he was fooling himself...as it was for the pair of guards. "Oh but I'm to see the Commander."

The guard blinked in confusion. "See the Co-?"

The question ended with a choking sound as Taliesin 's tiny dagger whirled through the air and struck the man just above his mail armour, cleanly entering his throat. Even if it hadn't struck so neatly it would have been a killing hit, the concentrated Deathroot extract covering the blade having entered the man's blood and rushed to his skull in the blink of an eye, making his brain seize up in another blink.

With a thud of metal against metal that made Taliesin wince the guard fell back into the arms of his friend.

"You-!"

Whatever the second guard was about to shout ended as a dark shape appeared at the other end of the hall, a whirling blade taking the man in the spine where the poison did it's magic, paralysing the man.

Then Taliesin was there, catching both men before they could fall, holding them until the other two assassins could close the distance and help him in gently dropping the corpses to the ground even as one of them with the efficiency of a professional slit their throats, just to be safe.

Straightening Taliesin regarded the other assassins. Both were unknown to him, just another sign that the Crows were taking every precaution, there would be no linking the assassins to one another later on if one got caught.

The one who had thrown the dagger into the second guard was a blond woman, her hair tied up into a small pony-tail, a pretty face...as most Crow women had...though now it was tight-lipped and focused, the blue eyes that no doubt could look so innocent and sweet cold and heartless. The other, who by now had tossed aside the dagger used to slit the guards throats was a dark skinned man with a curly black beard and even curlier hair, his dark brown eyes narrow and hard as he offered Taliesin a curt nod.

They didn't speak, there was no need.

As one the three reached for the weapons strapped to their chests underneath their tunics, tossing the garments aside like old cocoons, revealing their dark leather armour, the armour of killers. Each of them carried a pair of long daggers now, and crouching they applied the poison they hadn't dared to apply earlier. Quiet Death...a poison so potent even Taliesin eyed the blades with worry, knowing the slightest touch of it could potentially kill him, he was suddenly very grateful for his gloves...

Done they moved for the door, knowing they wouldn't have time to hide the two guards if they wanted to escape in time. With Taliesin and the other man using their larger bulks to ward off the light of the hallway they let the woman move up to the door, finding it unlocked she inched it open, leaving just enough of a gap for her to slip in before the others followed, Taliesin carefully closing the door behind them.

Inside the room was dark, there were no windows nor lamps, as expected. Standing perfectly still, slightly hunched over with arms to their sides in offensive stances the three killers waited, letting their eyes acclimatise to the darkness.

The room was not what he had expected. There was no great bed, or even luxury, in the room of the great Commander. To his left there was an area clearly meant to be an office for administration, the scrolls thick in the many bookshelves and on the large desk dominating the room. To the right, he noted with professional eyes, a suit of armour with a still sharp sword. Two pedestals with unimportant items atop them. And a weapon rack that was close to them containing a bow, a large axe, a pair of oddly familiar daggers, a dark collar and a piece of what seemed to be dried wood.

All that was unimportant when he spotted the cot though.

The bed was pitifully small for a great leader of the wardens, more similar to the small thing Taliesin had slept in during his sea-journey to Ferelden then a bed for the Hero of Ferelden. And in it..

_She looks pitiful_. Curled up in a small ball in the cot with her back facing them the elf woman's skin was pale grey in the darkness, resembling a small rock almost, its surface cracked with pale white scars. _I_..._didn't_ _think_ _she'd_ _be_ _so_..._small_. Taliesin had of course had a detailed description of the woman, but it was hard to equate the tiny little figure curled up in the corner of the room to the fearsome Hero of Ferelden...it just didn't fit.

_Unimportant_, _you_ _don't_ _get_ _paid_ _to_ _think_ _about_ _those_ _things_. Taliesin gestured at the small elf, making all three of them stir and advance.

They only managed one step before it came: "Ah."

All three dropped into low crouches, weapons raised defensively as heads turned left and right, looking for a hidden third guard even as Taliesin felt a shiver of dread run up his spine as a sickly realisation of where the word had emanated from reached him.

She rolled onto her back, then sat up, hugging her legs tightly as she stared straight ahead, ignoring the three assassins, making Taliesin swallow a pit of worry. The Hero of Ferelden had awoken...and the three killers were frozen in the moment, staring at her. The woman was naked, though nothing showed as she held her legs tightly, her pale grey skin shimmering slightly with sweat from some no doubt taint-induced nightmare. Yet her voice betrayed no discomfort: "Managed to enter the Keep, expensive equipment...and training judging by your stances."

The voice was oddly soft, in stark contrast with what Taliesin had heard, making both him and the two others nervously shuffle where they stood. _She doesn't sound like that heartless harpy they spoke of? Even the rumours in the taverns spoke of someone more_..._harsh_.

"Crows are you?" The other two flinched at the question even as Taliesin narrowed his eyes at the woman, finding her calm voice oddly...frightening. _Surely_ _she_ _realises_ _she's_ _about_ _to_ _die_? _Should_ _she_ _not_..._do_ _something_? _Or is she one of those who has come to terms with their death_? "Must have been expensive hiring you." The conversational tone was tainted with a softness Taliesin had never heard in any of his victims. _No_, _not_ _to_ _terms_..._she's_..._not_ _afraid_ _of_ _us_? _I_...

The others inched forward, but only a little before coming to a sudden stop. Following their gazes Taliesin saw the blade, a small thing, barely longer than of a finger, casually held in Lynn's left hand, the woman holding it as if she had forgotten about it. _It's not that big_..._and just a touch of our blades and she'll_-

"I knew a Crow once..." The elf continued, not the least bothered by the three assassins as her eyes stared out straight ahead, as if she had forgotten about the others in the room. "...a friend...I think."

"Zevran." Taliesin found himself choking on the name and ignored the stares of the other two assassins, wondering why he would volunteer information that might endanger his survival. So did he, but he couldn't help himself, the name was dragged out of him by the moment...making him shudder in the darkness.

The elf didn't seem to have heard him, her eyes distant as she spoke: "In a way he got me..." There was a small shudder in the elf as she lowered her head, a grimace across her face. "...before I killed him."

There it was. Guilt, sadness...but only a little, as if a distant echo of real emotions. Taliesin had heard she actually _hadn't_ killed the assassin...but none the less a growl escaped him, the need for revenge digging into him.

"He was good..." The grimace disappeared as the elf looked up, revealing tendrils of silver tears across her cheeks as she smiled at them, a tired smile, revealing a weariness beyond words. "...nearly killed me...and I wonder..." The smile turned vicious. "...if you can match him!"

Then there was an explosion of movement, the elf rolling off her bed, the toes of her right foot having gripped the cover she had lay on and now throwing the thing at the assassins as she landed on all fours besides her bed.

The three moved to dodge, only for the dark-skinned assassin to have the cover smash into his face as he tried to move to the left of the room. Cursing her slashed it aside...

A second later the elf was past him, the man's legs sagging until his knees thumped into the floor, his weapons dropping from shaking hands as the moved to stem the sudden spurt of dark blood shooting out from the side of his neck.

But the artery was cut perfectly...and Taliesin could only watch in mute horror as the expert assassin fell prone, never to move again. _So_ _fast_! _We_ _have to_-!

Taliesin found himself ducking back and parrying the little knife of the elf as she came at him like a bolt of lightning, her scarred flesh seemingly rippling like some wicked snake as she nearly slit his throat. _Maker_! Taliesin gasped, he knew the Hero of Ferelden would be hard to fight if it came down to that...but never when fighting him with a weapon barely the size of a razor!

The female assassin came to his rescue though, an impressive pattern of cuts and thrusts from her twin daggers creating a web of lethal strikes as she advanced on the little elf.

The pale elf parried a slash with her tiny dagger, then diverted a thrust with it, so fast it was almost impossible to see. She ducked low, to the left, right, back, parry, divert...wherever the pattern of strikes came the elf either stopped the blow with her tiny weapon or simply wasn't there, evading blades whose mere touch would bring such a small woman near death.

Then she suddenly leapt up, from no preparation, or even a hint of a warning...the elf jumped high, _vaulting_ the assassin and making her stumble forward in surprise as she found her target landing behind her.

The elf had landed right next to the already dead assassin, and as Taliesin watched, struck numb by what he saw, she placed her left foot under the handle of one of the poisoned daggers before kicking up.

It all moved so slowly...as Taliesin watched the female assassin turned to face the elf whose right hand moved across her chest to catch the blade she had kicked up, the assassin's own blades raised to parry the tiny dagger lunging for her chest, forcing the weapon over her left shoulder.

Then Lynn spun with the movement, her right arm swinging in a wide reverse cut.

And then the assassin gurgled as she spun counter-clockwise and stumbled backwards, her throat cut.

Taliesin blinked, feeling warm blood splash over his face, as he watched the other assassin drop to the floor, a small shudder running through her before she went still.

_This_..._she's_ _unreal_...

For a moment they just stood there, the elf cocking her head to the side as she regarded him, looking almost...disappointed?

Then the vicious look reappeared. The gaunt features of the woman splitting into a grin. "Your turn, don't disappoint now." Then she moved, her pale scars rippling like a coiled spring as she lunged.

And Taliesin knew terror.

Duck, parry, jump, leap, duck, parry. There was no time to think, no time to formulate a plan. Taliesin desperately fended himself with all his skill from a woman whose blades were just a pair of blurs before him, her nearly feral grin still on her face as she pressed her advantage without even a hint of the extreme pace tiring her.

_I'm going to die_.

Taliesin blinked sweat out of his eyes as he jumped back, finding Lynn's smaller dagger gouge his armour at his chest despite his quick reflexes.

_I'm going to die_!

Desperately he scrambled backwards, daggers swinging widely to force the elf back. She merely parried the blows and pushed after him, the poisoned dagger slicing off a piece of his leather greave, making him scream with the terror of being poisoned. _No time to check_! _Maker_! _I_- He felt burning pain as Lynn's other dagger drew a deep wound across his left arm, tearing its muscles apart and turning it slack.

_No_!

He lunged, blinded with fear and sweat.

Resistance, flesh parting, a gasp for air...hot breath against his ear.

The elf was paler now, yet still grinning at him, close, her lips trembling.

Taliesin couldn't believe it, staring in disbelief as the elf pushed close to him, shaking as her left hand gripped at his shoulder, her voice but a whisper: "Ah...good..."

_Pain_.

Taliesin barely felt it at first, it was a mere distant throb of something digging into his gut as he stared at the grinning face before him, the lips turning blue before his very eyes.

_Pain_!

It tore through him, knocked his breath away as his insides was turned into liquid fire, enveloping him and making him lean against the elf as he felt all strength leave him.

_Poi_..._poison_..._I_... The world turned blurry, the ground uneven, as if the entire world was listing all of a sudden. _N_-_no_..._I_..._this_..._no_...

"H-how ro-romantic..." The elf's voice was distant, soft, _gentle_...he felt his mind spin as the words dragged him with them, embracing him. "...d-dying to-together..."

A crash of a door opening, a cry of warning.

All distant, unimportant.

A dying laugh...

Darkness.

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_As always, appreciation goes to Abydos Jackson for her aid._


	27. Chapter 27

Nathaniel couldn't sleep.

Or rather, he wouldn't allow himself to.

The room for the healers was sizeable and spacious, a dozen beds lining each long side of the rectangular room, each with a small wooden cupboard and chair at its side for storing tonics and for guests and healers for whatever injured man would lay there. At the far end of the room the only door was solidly closed, two guards posted there, not allowing any but the seneschal and the wardens through. At the closer end three large windows looked out over the courtyard of the keep from the high vantage point of the infirmary, and more importantly let in the bright sunlight during the day, not to mention fresh air since the windows were always kept cracked open.

At the moment there was no sunlight though, only the darkness of midnight, the pale moon covered by dark storm clouds adding to the oppressive blackness outside. A few torches were lit in the infirmary, but only a few, creating more shadows then light in the room. From the windows came the only sound in the room, the slight patter of rain.

Nathaniel preferred it that way, it suited the situation and gave him an excuse to brood.

There were only three people in the room. Nathaniel sitting by the bed closest to the window, still in his leather armour and with a forgotten book in his lap. The healer in her blue frock that was wrinkled from lack of a change, her pale face showing the dark rings under her eyes as she sat on a chair slightly behind Nathaniel, the woman looking more dead then alive as she slept.

And their Commander in the bed before him.

Nathaniel felt a soundless sigh escape him as he eyed the reason for his brooding, his father's killer, his Commander, his second chance...and felt only weariness.

The elf was _small_.

She had always been physically small of course, but Nathaniel had never felt it, her mere presence making her tower above others, frightening them into submission, even him to a point. But with even the dimmest of consciousness leaving her...it was just a pale shell of a woman before him, body worn and gaunt, taut like a bowstring, ready to snap.

The cover had been pulled down to her waist, the healer too tired to remember pulling it back before falling asleep on her chair due to exhaustion. Her exposed arms looked strangely thin and brittle without her taut muscles animating them, as if her bones had turned to thin sticks the moment she'd gotten poisoned. Her torso was covered in bandages, the soft cloths turned green by the many poultices the healer had drenched them in, a darker spot right beneath the woman's left ribs where the wound of the dagger still refused to close.

_She's so pale, like a ghost, already dead_. Nathaniel found himself glancing at the elf's chest, shoulders dropping slightly at the sight of the ever so small movement of it as the Commander breathed, the only sign of life for a full five days now.

_Five_ _days_...

Nathaniel ran a hand from his neck to his jaw, feeling the rough stubble of a lack of shaving, knowing that he probably looked no better then the healer and her worn features. _I need sleep_.

Yet he _couldn't_ sleep, his mind refusing to stop thinking about the options of the future, trying to find _some_ way to salvage the issue that didn't involve praying.

The atmosphere of the castle was tense, anyone walking the halls could feel it. Nathaniel had seen the guards walk stiffly, barking at anyone they thought bothersome, he had seen the servants skitter around like mice, wide eyes darting at the shadows, as if fearing fresh assassins. He couldn't blame any of them, he felt it too, the waiting was killing them all, making them more and more frightened of an unsure future.

The moment he had found Lynn being carried to the healers by swift guards, bleeding profusely, and more importantly, not stirring the slightest despite her toughness, Nathaniel had taken the reins. Sending out a flurry of orders to all around him he had taken leadership through sheer momentum and the need to keep things from evaporating.

None had been allowed to leave the Keep, not for supplies, visiting families or any other reason. The gate had been closed and anyone trying to enter been turned back without any information as to why. The guards had been set up along the walls in double shifts and doubled in numbers, preventing any potential spies from trying to escape. The servants were sent into a fever pitch of work, cleaning and fixing everything at once, making sure the soldiers of the army were as pampered as possible, so as to ease their growing displeasure with the lack of action, something they would violently express if it was allowed to come to the surface.

He had taken Lynn's office for the moment, making sure that all orders and planned actions were prepared to be sent the moment the gates were allowed to be opened once more, whatever happened the land must still be administered. He had also added a few letters of his own, depending on what would happen to Lynn they would either be sent to the lords of the land as well as the Warden's at Weisshaupt...or they wouldn't.

Things couldn't last much longer though.

Already there were rumblings in the ranks, Nathaniel was _not_ the Commander, and Nathaniel _knew_ the issue with loyalty in the Keep was nothing but a pale shadow what would happen if she did indeed die.

_The nobles will demand or request me to take over the arling_. Nathaniel grimaced at the thought, while the idea of getting back his family's land was tempting it would just be an illusion, he would hold it not as a Howe, but as a Warden, not to mention that he would always feel as if he had stolen it, that he'd received it without _earning_ it.

_And it would not work_. Nathaniel nearly sighed, but then thought better of it, he found himself enjoying the silence. The nobles would want him to take over in an attempt to bring things back to the way they were, if they succeeded they would not only have a Howe back into place, potentially lessen the still suspect Warden's influence on the land...they would also have a Howe owing a great favour to them...great enough to strengthen their own position in society.

But the Warden's would _never_ let Nathaniel take over, not only was Nathaniel a Howe, and therefore dangerous to be given command of the arling, but he was also a junior member, far too early in his career among them to be allowed to rule such an important bit of land. They would no doubt send a more experienced one over, which meant an Orlesian... _No matter how good he or she would be it would only deepen the suspicions of the wardens being an Orlesian tool to win influence in Ferelden_. Nathaniel shook his head in frustration, the all too familiar thoughts leading him the same path as before.

_Not that that matters, it'll take months before an experienced warden arrives_. _So if she dies now_..._then what_? Nathaniel wasn't so naïve as to think they could just wait in the keep for the new leader, they would have to act against the growing menace of the darkspawn gathering across the arling, and soon. Which left the question of leadership vital.

_Seneschal Varel is a good choice, but he's no Warden, with him in temporary leadership the Wardens would be undermined, he's also too set in being the assistant, he's untested as a real leader_. Nathaniel frowned, knowing the options yet going through them again, trying to find a shred of something new, something to give them _hope_! _It has to be a Warden, but who_?

_Sigrun, unknown quality, we barely know her, she barely knows the world above either_..._too much of a gamble, not to mention that she strikes me as too much of an independent person to bother leading a arling_.

A shake of his head. _No_.

_Mhairi, still grieving Anders, potentially she would act on her emotions in the beginning. She's solid though, if a bit inflexible and without the delicate touch an arl needs_. _Noble actions would be her byword, but not practical, and we __need__ practical solutions_.

Another shake. _No_.

_Velanna_...he found himself biting his lower lip in frustration. _She would_..._not_ _make_ _a_ _good_ _arl_...it pained him to admit it, even after he had done it so many times before. _Still_ _too_ _hostile_ _against_ _humans_..._most_ _of_ _them_. He managed a pale smile at that, a hand coming up to rub his forehead, mildly surprised that he had developed a headache without realising it. During the five tense days she had been the only source of ease for his troubled mind, the only one who could force him to eat and even rest when he needed it, which she did with her usual lack of tact, something he had enjoyed far too much.

_She was meant to be a Keeper though, so she would know how to organise, but an entire arling_? _With all the human administration and a completely different system of governing, a system she despises_? _I suppose together we would_...

A third shake of his head, a bitter-sweet smile. _No, shouldn't be an idiot, I cannot rule, it would not be allowed by the wardens_, _nor can we have Velanna alone_..._and she would be too proud to let me rule through her as we feign her holding leadership_. The smile turned sad. _Damn that intoxicating pride_...

Shrugging he shot Lynn a glare. _You should have made some arrangement, thought you were immortal_? _Or perhaps you didn't care what would happen after you died_? _That your duty simply ended with your death_? _That's_..._selfish_, _perhaps_ _you_ _think_ _you_ _deserve_ _the_ _rest_? _That once you died others would __have__ to take your place_? _Harsh_..._sounds_ _like_ _you_. He pinched the bridge of his nose and momentarily closed his eyes, tired. _You're_ _no_ _hero_..._I've_ _known_ _that_ _for_ _long_ _now_..._but_ _this_? _Never this_..._don't you care for the people you've given your life at all_? _It_..._makes no sense_..._who __are__ you_?

There were no options, nothing that wouldn't cripple their ability to act, and he despised his Commander for it.

She opened her eyes.

Nathaniel blinked, too stunned to act.

For five days and five nights she had lain there, at the brink of death when healers said she was lucky they had even managed to bring her to the infirmary to die under care. Yet she had lain there, too strong to die, as if even death didn't dare reach her.

And now her eyes were open, surprisingly large and round..._calm_, a different set of eyes then Nathaniel remembered, it was as if she had been constantly glaring at them before and he hadn't even noticed until now, now that her eyes were fully open.

A breath passed.

Then another.

The elf's head turned, large amber doe-eyes focusing on Nathaniel, freezing him to the spot, stunned by the calm within them.

Then she smiled.

Nathaniel swallowed, throat suddenly dry as he found his Commander smile the softest of smiles, her large eyes full of relief, relaxed, as if she hadn't been poisoned at all...

Rolling onto her side facing him the elf's smile never left her as her right arm slowly reached out, the hand trembling with weakness, yet the woman didn't seem to notice as she found his cheek, holding it in a cold hand, making him tense in a confusing fear. _There's_..._something_ _unnatural_ _here_.

Her voice was but a whisper. "Alistair..." Her smile widened, tears suddenly prickling the corners of her eyes, _relief_.

Nathaniel felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I...Commander..." Nathaniel didn't know what to say and fell silent as he swallowed.

The woman didn't seem to hear him, more tears trickling down her cheeks as her gaunt features softened with a happiness that struck Nathaniel with the force of a battering ram, such softness it was painful to see. "Alistair..."

He found his trembling hand reach up, grab a hold of Lynn's hand on his cheek as he swallowed and tried, a small whisper the only thing escaping him. _I should call for the healer, or_... "Commander..." He licked his lips, unable to let the needed words slip past his lips.

_Fear_, lips trembling, eyes painfully large, Lynn going even paler. "A-Alistair?"

He couldn't say it. Instead he simply pried Lynn's hand off his cheek and let it drop while softly shaking his head, knowing it would be enough...and hating himself for doing it.

Pain, then horror...then pain again, the emotions written on the woman's face hitting Nathaniel like a tidal wave.

Nathaniel found himself look away from the woman's face, the display of feelings _burning_ him, embarrassing and hurting him in equal measure even as he knew he would never be able to forget the sight, _never_.

Movement, Lynn rolling away, turning her back on him.

Looking up he found her shoulders shake, he didn't hear any crying, no sobs, no sniffles...just a gentle shaking of the woman's shoulders as she wept.

He moved to touch her, to hold her-

The shaking stopped, making him freeze still like a startled deer.

"Summon the nobles." Nathaniel flinched, the clearly spoken words tearing through the silence of the night, breaking it.

Nathaniel felt a cold sweat run down at his spine, something in the way Lynn had spoken the words making him shiver. "I-" _Danger_..._get_ _out_...

A slight shake of the woman's shoulders, a tension, ready to leap at him.

_Get_ _out_..._now_!

"Summon." Lynn's hiss was venomous. "The." Full of rage. "Nobles!" _Deadly_.

For the first time in his life Nathaniel found himself fleeing in panic.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for helping me with this despite her weariness, I am truly blessed._


	28. Chapter 28

"This is an outrage!"

"I demand an explanation!"

Nathaniel ignored the blustering of the crowd of nobles, his face a mask of an icy glare as he, with an internal nod of satisfaction watched the last of them being roughly shoved into the throne room by two impassive guards. _Good_, _they're_ _doing_ _their_ _job_.

With the door closing behind the guards there were only two set of people in the room, the gathered nobles, a full three dozen in number, and the warden's, sans their commander.

The nobles were, despite the speed with which they had been summoned, dressed in fine clothing and decently clean, not as much as one usually was when summoned before one's liege, but as they were when working at their estate. Three dozen in number the head of the noble households were a great mix of men and women, young and old, some as dark as Rivanni, some as pale as an Orlesian...a sign of the recent war as well as of Amaranthine's position as a trading hub.

They all wore the faces of one who had suffered an insult though, and with good cause, it was not the Ferelden way to summon the nobles so quickly, nor with any explanation as to _why_ they had been summoned.

With their nice clothing slightly ruffled and their heads turning left and right as they tried to either glare at their guards or ask each other questions none had an answer to they looked like a gaggle of headless geese.

The wardens were in stark contrast to the nobles silent and still, they might as well have been statues for all they moved.

Whatever grief Mhairi might still feel about Anders nothing showed, the woman's eyes narrowed under her open-faced helmet of polished red steel as she regarded the nobles. Standing by the door leading out from the keep Mhairi kept her hand resting on the pommel of her sheathed sword, the fingers drumming against the hilt, as if she considered drawing it at that instance. For all Nathaniel knew she just might, for all that the woman might think of the Commander...Nathaniel had noticed her anger at the idea of assassins coming to kill her. Mhairi was a woman of principles, and no Commander of hers would be killed by crude murderers, especially not in _Mhairi's_ keep!

_I suppose it makes her convincing_. Nathaniel could only hope the woman didn't do anything rash as he could do nothing about it from his position on the right side of the throne.

Flanking the door from the other side Sigrun stood, she too in full armour. Her hands idly resting on her sheathed axes the dwarf observed the crowd of nobles with an odd expression on her face, a mix of hostility, both feigned and real, as well as curiosity and...greed?_ I suppose a woman from Dust Town would find nobles interesting and disgusting in many ways_...

On the other side of the throne, eight feet away, that felt like miles, Velanna stood. In stark contrast to Nathaniel's tousled and scruffy looks the woman was clean and pristine, her robe smelling faintly of lavender, or perhaps _she_ was...Nathaniel wasn't sure, nor if she had always smelled of that or if he had just now noticed it.

Either way it was awfully difficult to ignore.

She was the only of the four that had her weapon out, the butt of her staff resting against the floor as she held it before her with both hands, her eyes narrowed in a characteristic glare at the nobles...and at times looking troubled as they shot him the odd look he couldn't quite read. Confusion? Worry? He couldn't tell.

To be fair he couldn't give her too much attention, his gaze fixed on the nobles, trying to gauge their resolve. With him only having had a bucket of far too cold water emptied over his head and _still_ haven't had a time to shave he had begun to look like some barbarian from the Anderfels...and it seemed a few of the nobles gathered actually didn't recognise him. The others though had raised quizzing eyebrows...but Nathaniel's glare combined with the atmosphere of the room had stopped any questions or the like coming his way.

Despite the throne room easily being able to contain twice the number of people it felt cramped, as if there wasn't enough air to go around.

Hostility.

Danger.

Fear.

It was all palpable in the room and the nobles could sense it, many nervously shifting their feet even as they asked the same questions over and over again, as if to ward away a silence they knew they should fear.

But there were no answers, no one to tell them what was going on, no one with information, only four wardens glaring at them. The only four in the room with weapons, which some of the more skittish nobles noticed with pale faces.

Silence.

A pressing, _tense_ silence. The tension of the bow just before release, the deep breath before the plunge.

But nothing happened.

A cough.

A scrapping of feet against floor.

A nervous giggle.

Yet there was nothing.

Finally a man stepped forth, a large man in his sixties he had a dark grey moustache and looked every bit of a noble warrior in his stance as he stepped towards Nathaniel and pointed a finger at him. "Warden, if this is-"

The butt of Velanna's staff slammed the floor, _hard_, making the sound echo throughout the room and forcing the noble a step back as he dropped his hand and stared at the insolent elf.

Velanna looked back evenly, a shadow of hostility in otherwise neutral eyes, making the man visibly shudder as he looked away and merged back into the crowd.

Huh, subtle for Velanna... Nathaniel felt a bit...impressed...he hadn't expected Velanna to be so clever as to not force a direct confrontation, for all her intelligence she was a forthright woman after all. She didn't turn to look at him and his questioning look, there was only slight blink of her right eye. _Wait_..._did_ _she_ _just_ _wink_ _at_ _me_?

Nathaniel had no time to think about it though as the doors slammed open, making even _him_ jump.

The doors slammed shut as soon as they'd opened and Nathaniel knew all too well who had entered as the crowd of nobles turned deadly silent and begun to part to give way for a solitary figure slowly making its way towards the throne.

Lynn did not look good.

While the heavy armour she wore did much to hide the way the poison had eaten away at her body there was no hiding her face. Nathaniel had thought her gaunt before...but now her head was practically a skull with paper thing skin of white pulled taut over it, her black hair had streaks of grey in it along the temples and was thinner then before...and her amber eyes were _glowing_ with rage within its sockets, like that of some malevolent creature of evil.

Despite her weakness there was no hesitation or wavering in Lynn's steps, as if her anger was enough to power her, despite the potent poison still lingering within her.

She exuded rage.

And all in the room trembled.

But only when Nathaniel spotted what she held in her hands did he truly know fear, a cold trickle of sweat running down his spine as he watched the elf step up next to him. Facing the throne she, with the slowness of one holding a great rage back, placed her burden onto the seat of the throne with a metallic click before turning to the crowd.

The nobles, having filled the hole made by the elf, stared back, one or two swallowing at the sight of the creature of hatred before them.

Silence.

More nobles swallowing, half of them turning ghostly pale, the other looking ready to throw up.

Silence.

Then Lynn spoke, her voice raspy and shaking, shaking, Nathaniel realised, with _anger_: "Six days ago there was an attempt on my life..."

Someone moved to speak, then though better of it.

Now all nobles had turned ghostly pale.

"Three crow assassins, well trained, entered this keep, slew many of my soldiers and nearly killed myself..."

Silence.

Lynn cocked her head to the side, a nearly animalistic snarl escaping her. "None could afford them but one or several of those standing before me."

Someone moved to speak.

"I want _names_!" Lynn's voice nearly turned into a shriek at the end, making even the warden's that had been prepared for some sort of angry speech flinch.

Silence, the nobles exchanging frightened glances of silent communication.

Lynn's voice turned into a low hiss: "_Now_..."

From the crowd a small protest from some woman came: "Surely my liege does not suspect any of _us_ for-"

"_NOW_!"

The entire crowd of nobles jumped back in fright, as did the other wardens as Nathaniel felt himself shudder. _She's out of control_...

Yet Lynn seemed perfectly in control of herself as she with deathly silence moved closer to the nobles, a lion sneaking closer to the herd of antelopes. Her voice was once again low, almost _calm_, which was more frightening than her shrieks of rage: "I want those responsible for this, and I want them _now_...those giving themselves up will not have their families slaughtered like pigs. The others...will not be so fortunate."

"You can't-!"

"And those with knowledge of those responsible should speak up too!" Lynn snapped even as Nathaniel paled._ You can't_..._these_ _are_ _nobles_, _without them the whole country will fall into chaos_! _I understand the need to set an example but_..._Maker_... "Or they too will suffer the same fate as those they protect...now..." She _exuded_ hatred, making everyone inch back. "..._names_..."

Silence.

A woman weeping in fright.

A man whimpering.

No answer.

"I see..." Lynn didn't sound surprised, in fact she almost sounded...amused...a dark..._vicious_ sort of amusement. "...then...if the nobles feel that their loyalty is to that of _their_ order...and _not_ to the order they swore their oath of vassalage to...I will have to change their order."

She turned back to the throne.

And picked up the chalice.

Nathaniel felt as if his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest. _She_ _can't_! _It's_ _just_ _not_..._she_ _can't_!

Turning to the assembled nobles Lynn held up the blood-filled chalice, a her voice frosty with hatred: "Welcome to your joining."

There was chaos.

"You can't!"

"This isn't proper!"

"We are not to be treated this way!"

"This is ridiculous!"

"The crown will hear of this!"

Nobles protesting as some backed away in fear, others advancing with indignant glares on their faces.

"I _can_!" Lynn's voice was like a knife, silencing all protests and freezing the nobles still. "And I _will_! A Grey Warden may conscript anyone, from servant to _king_! You are _not_ exceptions!"

"The joining is supposed to be dangerous!" A woman exclaimed, her features pale, to the point that Nathaniel wondered if she wouldn't faint. "If...the family of the fallen will rise up! There'll be civil war!"

"Then they _will_ rise up!" Lynn retorted, snarling like a wolf. "And _I_ will _burn_ them to nothing and grind their households into the dust until _nothing_ remains of them!"

"This is ridiculous!" A man exclaimed, waving his arms out as he half-turned towards the other nobles while speaking to Lynn. "You will not bully us like this! I understand you wishes those hiring the murderers found but you cannot risk the entire land just be-"

"Do not preach to _me_ of what can and cannot be done!" Lynn growled, advancing and making the man falter as his stare darted from the lethal elf and the dark liquid being brought closer to him. "Not even the _archdemon_ could tell me what I could and couldn't do! I will _not_ be lectured by some snivelling _wretch_ of a noble who has never felt the icy fingers of death around his heart on what's _proper_!"

A few of the nobles made signs of protection at the mention of the demon, but most remained still, rooted to the spot with terror.

The man said nothing, his lips trembling as he watched the elf and the chalice of darkspawn blood with the terror of a man about to flee, yet having nowhere to go.

"Unless..." A nearly mad chuckle escaped Lynn as she regarded the crowd. "...I get my names..."

A few nobles exchanged glances, others lips were moving without them speaking, as if trying to confess something yet unable to find their voice.

But there was only silence.

"Join us brothers and sisters..." Lynn's voice was suddenly soft, calm, a dreadful poison of words trickling into the ears of those in the room. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant..." The men and women of the nobles looked ready to bolt, many eyes wide open in shock, unable to believe what they were hearing.

Neither could Nathaniel, the man too stunned to act, even if he had dared. _Madness_..._this_ _is_ _madness_...

"Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn..." A wolfish grin. "And should you _perish_, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten...And that one day we shall join you"

She pushed the chalice towards the noble that had tried to protest, who shook his head furiously, eyes darting to the others, trying to find some support and finding none as the others looked away in mute horror.

"_Drink_." Lynn's hiss was barely audible, but the slight sound of her dagger being drawn _was_...and the man somehow managed to go even paler.

The man hesitated.

And fell.

There were gasps, shrieks, curses.

But Nathaniel could do nothing but stare as the man dropped onto his knees, clutching his stomach where intestines were pouring out, his eyes screwed shut in agony as his mouth opened in a soundless scream.

Then he keeled over, crashing to the floor with a crack of a skull breaking and the fleshy sound of intestines being squashed against the floor.

Someone threw up.

Lynn remained impassive though, holding her gore-covered dagger in her left hand she advanced upon the next noble, her right holding up the chalice to the woman that was as pale as a ghost, shaking uncontrollable. "Drink sister..."

The woman only glanced at the dagger, then hurriedly held out trembling hands to hold the chalice.

Some of the blood spilled, the chalice held in the shaking hands it was, some of it ending on the woman's hands and making her whimper in fright.

She didn't drop it though, Lynn's steady gaze _forcing_ her not to, _forcing_ her to pull it up towards her lips, _forcing_ her to _drink_...

Lynn snatched the chalice away from the woman even as she took a step back, a strangled cough escaping her.

_Maker_..._it's_ _not_ _darkspawn_ _blood_..._it's_ _not_ _a_ _true_ _joining_..._p-poison_? The realisation filled Nathaniel with disgust as he watched the woman flail her arms around and stumble further back, making screaming nobles step away even as the woman's face turned a sick shade of blue.

"Agh...I...glah..." The woman's mouth worked to form the word, only for a black tongue, swollen and bleeding, to slip out of her mouth..then fall off, making black blood well from the wound as she spun around, reaching for whoever was closest.

Screaming nobles jumped away, only to watch as the woman with large eyes, pleading at them even as they began to bleed, scrapped at the floor after them as she collapsed...then went still.

Silence.

Then Lynn's voice, raspy and hateful, cold and final, spoke out: "The joining is not yet complete..."

A horrified silence.

Then a cry: "No!" A man fell to his knees, hands covering his face as he shook his head furiously. "It wasn't me! It was lord Mortine and Lady Landra!"

A man and a woman stepped forth, shaky glares fixed on the kneeling man as they with pale faces shook their heads, the woman speaking up: "That is a lie! I demand a trial of our peers!"

The man too was pale, but looked equally angry: "This is no evidence! He would have named _anyone_ to save his own rotten skin! Or cover his _own_ tracks!"

"True..." Lynn replied, looking thoughtful for but a moment...then looking to the doors. "Guards!"

The door slammed open, letting in a full dozen grim looking but pale guards with drawn weapons.

Lynn pointed at the two nobles, then the kneeling one, in turn. "Take these three out and execute them."

"WHAT!"

Nathaniel wasn't sure who shouted the question, perhaps all of them, but Lynn didn't seem to hear: "I want troops sent to their estates, their families and servants executed, _their_ men are now _our_ men, is that understood?"

A shaking soldier managed a salute even as the others moved to grab the chosen nobles, all three of them staring out into the distance, stunned into silence by what had happened.

"As for you _loyal_ nobles..." Lynn snorted. "Your lands will expand to cover those of the now to be destroyed families." She paused there, perhaps to look for any smugness among the nobles at the thought of more land. There was none though, all of them too stunned to think. "Enjoy the land...but remember how you got it...remember who holds your lives...remember not to cross me."

_I doubt they'll forget_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her patience with me._


	29. Chapter 29

The lake was still and as black as the sky above.

Not a sound echoed over the lake, as if the fish had hidden deep within it, the animals that should be drinking having slipped away, never to be seen.

There were only ghosts of life. Nearly leafless trees gently swaying in the wind, yellowing grass wilting, blackened bushes desperately clinging to life.

They hadn't even reached the Blackmarsh, yet the land around them was already showing signs of dying, as if some unknown disease was choking the life out of the land.

Except it _wasn't_ unknown, not to the wardens, nor perhaps, many others nowadays. It was the taint of the darkspawn, as if transferred from the creatures that still stalked the land it was like a sickness, eating away at wildlife and plants that knew no defence against it.

The group had found darkspawn forces ten times already, four times had they fought, in total they might have slain a hundred now at the end of the day...yet there were always more, in one encounter they had been forced to sneak past a force of nearly a thousand of the beasts.

And judging by the reports there were forces numbering tens of thousands out in the fields.

Nathaniel as such didn't approve of Lynn's leading them out into yet another excursion, and he had told her so. Not only was she far too important for them...especially since she hadn't seen fit to appoint a second in command even after her brush with danger...but she was also still sick and injured, in sore need of rest. Logically, if she wanted to find the Orlesian warden Kristoff that had survived the attack on Vigil's Keep simply because he had been off searching the Blackmarsh for a hint of any darkspawn leadership, she should have sent scouts.

Instead the group had gone, as it _always_ did. Now Nathaniel _could_ understand the reasons Lynn so quickly had snapped off. The scouts were not as skilled as the group and could well flounder upon a group of darkspawn the Wardens could sense. It was important to get as many wardens as possible to fight the growing darkspawn threat. It was also vital to try and find a reason as to why there seemed to be _two_ groups of darkspawn, one which seemed content to fight the other and leave the _humans_ alone...though losing that side had in many ways saved more lives then the warden's troops so far...and there was no explanation to it.

Now those were all good reasons...none of which Nathaniel believed.

The Commander simply wouldn't let anyone else do the work, it wasn't a lack of trust, something that the glares at her back from her troops spoke volumes of, but a _need_ to fight, a _need_ to go out and live on the road. Even gaunt and ravaged with sickness, nearly a skeleton, Lynn continued with a pace that baffled even a seasoned soldier. _She's running herself to the death_...Nathaniel shuddered as he sat by the lake..._I can only hope we're not dragged along with her_. He shook his head, baffled at the idiocy of it all.

_Yet there is little to do about it_. Nathaniel glanced back at the camp a few feet away.

With darkspawn seemingly everywhere there was no fire, the tents dark as they had been erected under the shadows of the large trees of the small forest they had camped in. There was little sound either, the group either too tired, or too tense, to talk. Sure, they were supposed to keep quiet as much as possible so as to not alert any nearby darkspawn...but the camp was eerie in it's silence.

_We all sense it_. He shuddered._ The war will soon explode_..._and the darkspawn are the one with the numbers_.

Another reason to send scouts for Kristoff, another reason to stay. A leader did _not_ go out on excursions like these, they _stayed_, even if they didn't want to, stayed and _led_. Nathaniel knew that if he had been in charge he would have done just that, he would have led troops out, culled the roving bands of darkspawn and made roads to the noble's strongholds so as to increase their strength, perhaps strengthen the garrison at Amaranthine itself. Instead they waited, building their strength within their keep, waiting, uncaring. For Nathaniel _wasn't_ in command.

He eyed Lynn with a strange mix of frustration and sympathy.

The elf was still in her armour, sitting on a fallen tree trunk, helmet in her lap, seemingly forgotten as her hands rested atop it. Her eyes were vacant, staring at some spot in the dirt ahead of her, not really seeing anything. With the alabaster skin drawn taut over her skull and her dark hair now thinner and streaked with grey she nearly looked like an undead creature, or perhaps simply _dead_, considering all the moving she did.

_She has to be exhausted with all the fighting and swift marching, all in heavy plate armour and weakened by poison and sickness_...Nathaniel had difficulty drawing up any sympathy however. _She chose this, let her endure_.

Yet, she looked so..._sick_...sick to the very bone...it was painful to see.

Nathaniel found his gaze moving away, unable to keep up the scrutiny of the half-dead creature leading them.

Mhairi sat a bit apart from the elf, right on the dying grass. _At least there's someone who's recovering_. The woman looked calm, but no longer grieving, almost _bored_ in fact...her face neutral as she stared out into the forest, trying to keep herself distracted as she nibbled on some bread. Still in her armour, as ordered by their Commander, she still looked peaceful, as if she'd never even think of drawing the sword at her side. _Maybe grief has mellowed her_? He blinked and looked away. _It_ _does_ _that_..._good_ _for_ _her_..._I_ _suppose_.

He sighed.

_Yes, it __is__ good_..._she'll_ _grow_ _from_ _it_. Nathaniel glanced back, trying to spot Sigrun and, more importantly, Velanna where they stood guard of the miniature camp.

He could only spot the dwarf though, the short woman nearly hidden in among the dark trees around her, an unmoving shadow, save the head slowly turning left and right, searching for an enemy her senses would no doubt feel beforehand, but such habits were hard to throw aside. _Not to mention that there are other things but darkspawn to prey on the unwary_... Nathaniel nodded in satisfaction, one could say what one wanted about the dwarf's dark humour, childlike manner and constant thefts...but she did her duty.

Impatient Nathaniel's gaze swept on, trying to find Velanna. He'd done that more and more as of late...and he didn't all mind. Nor did Velanna...he thought...or perhaps hoped. So far during their march she had kept _close_, yet said _nothing_...and at times shot Lynn the odd look or two, indecisive perhaps... Nathaniel realised he didn't have all the cards as to what was going on...he could only hope things played out well.

Yet he found no sign of her now. Perhaps it was something the Dalish were born with, but despite being a mage Velanna was surprisingly good at staying quiet and hidden...in the _few_ instances when she so desired.

Currently Nathaniel found that skill vexing indeed.

_When did I start acting like a teenager again_? _Then again, with all the violence and danger...I suppose it's nice to have __something__ sweet to hold onto_.. Smirking at his own idiocy Nathaniel shrugged, knowing he would see her soon enough anyway as he turned back to what he _really_ was supposed to do.

With all the excitement at the Keep and their hurried march and fighting Nathaniel had yet to actually get that shave he'd desperately needed...and now with them finally making camp he wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

For all it's eeriness the dead lake was still and calm, a perfect mirror with the pale moonlight as Nathaniel leant over it to look at his own face, grimacing at the sight of the thick stubble. _No more_. He raised the razor, its weight like nothing in his hand...and turned to his work, creating tiny ripples in the water as dark hair dropped into it.

He nearly sighed in contentment as the stubble fell before his strokes, it was a release, instantly making him feel cleaner, more awake...proper. _Or as proper as a former noble of a disgraced house can be_. He allowed himself an ironic smirk.

Then the smell of lavender snuck upon him.

Startled he pushed the razor away from his throat and glanced to his right, finding Velanna sitting herself down next to him, hugging her bare legs as she smiled..._pleasantly_ at him. Nathaniel blinked, the smile _was_ pleasant...so much so that he barely even noticed that her hair was down, blond tresses long enough to cover her cleavage as well as framing her face, softening it. _This_..._is_ _new_. He swallowed, finding himself struck still.

He realised he was staring.

Turning his head away Nathaniel was grateful of the darkness, hoping it would mask his sudden blush, judging by Velanna's soft chuckle it didn't.

Quickly regaining his composure Nathaniel went back to work with his shave. Not wanting to interrupt the silence just yet he stayed quiet, content to enjoy the company of the woman as he himself became somewhat proper.

To his surprise Velanna seemed to share the sentiment, the elf quiet as she, with her head slightly cocked and resting on her knees, watching him as he worked.

Nathaniel found himself relaxing, a tension he wasn't even aware of easing away. _This is nice_...

Then Velenna opened her mouth: "Shaving I see." The sentence was short and clipped, hesitant. "You..." Nathaniel found himself bracing for the words, ready to start the usual banter, willing to distract himself from the tedium of the day. "...will look better that way." It was just a soft whisper, but carried easily through the silent night.

_Huh_? Nathaniel ceased his work for but a moment, then continued as he struggled with a smile, feeling giddy all of a sudden. _Teenager_ _indeed_... "My lady's too kind, it's just proper."

"Hmm..." Velanna hummed, half an agreement, half in bemusement. Shifting her weight she came up to sit on her left knee as she inched closer, observing the strokes of his razor with perplexing fascination.

Nathaniel waited, but she said nothing more, her gaze focused on Nathaniel's blade, bright grey eyes harbouring a confusing mix of emotions Nathaniel couldn't make sense of.

So he waited, settling for enjoying the woman's company as she made up her mind.

He didn't have to wait long. "Elves..." She hesitated again, eyes narrowing in a rebellious glare, a glare she shot over at the camp for some reason. Then she looked back, a sudden glint in her eyes, her tone..._different_...Nathaniel couldn't identify it: "...do not grow hair anywhere but atop our head."

Nathaniel didn't understand, it was such an _odd_ thing to say. _Is she simply trying to make conversation_? _Or claim elven superiority again? I thought we were past such awkwardness and pride_. "I see." Still, he calculated his odds for something positive being yielded from the conversation...and found the chances good. As such he kept his tone slightly friendlier then his normal dry one as he added: "That's interesting." _Not_ _really_..._but_ _let's_ _keep_ _things_ _civil_.

Then Velanna inched closer, and Nathaniel suddenly realised that the glint in her eyes was _wicked_, that the corner of her lip had quirked up, that even her _tone_ was wicked...sending an all too pleasant shiver up his spine. _This_ _is_..._new_... Nathaniel found his thinking go sluggish, as if he had been dazed.

Her face was suddenly an inch from the side of his face, her breath brushing against his ear as she grinning whispered: "_Anywhere_..."

Nathaniel blinked.

Then the words sunk in.

For the third time that evening Nathaniel wondered if he hadn't turned into a teenager as all blood suddenly rushed to his face and groin, nearly making him dizzy.

"I..." He coughed, realizing his throat had turned dry. "...I..._see_..." He tried to come up with _anything_ else to say...but his mind drew a blank, too stunned by Velanna's brazenness. _Should_ _I_..._I_..._well_... Normally _he_ did the hunting, which was easy since most prey _wanted_ to be caught by him..._this_ however...this was different. He _shouldn't_ be surprised by it, considering Velanna was more straightforward and forward...yet he _was_...shocked even.

Velanna chuckled softly, puffing warm air against Nathaniel's ear as she remained close, grinning at him and his discomfort...which was a _pleasant_ sort of discomfort by now...if such a thing existed.

He licked his lips, suddenly afraid of turning his to look at her properly, not really trusting himself.

Another soft chuckle and Velanna got to her feet, her tone light as she spoke: "I think I'll retire to my tent..._good _night...ser..." A toss of her head to put her hair behind her shoulders and she turned to walk away, moving with calculated slowness.

And Nathaniel found himself staring after her, transfixed, unable to look away as she went into her tent, a mere fifteen feet away.

_It's so close_..._did_ _she_ _just_..._say_ _what_ _I_ _think_ _she_ _said_?

He swallowed.

_I_..._what's with the sudden brazenness_? _I was sure_..._wouldn't_ _she_ _rather_..._why_ _am_ _I_ _even_ _debating_ _this_? Nathaniel couldn't help himself though, even as he rose to stand up he hesitated, confused. _There_ _is_ _something_ _afoot_, _sure_ _I_ _wouldn't_ _mind_..._not_ _at_ _all_..._but_..._Maker_ _this_ _is_ _a_ _bit_..._hard_.

"Go get her."

Nathaniel jumped, his head snapping around to find Sigrun standing next to him, the dwarf grinning widely at him: "I..._excuse_ me?" Nathaniel grimaced at his shaky tone, realising he was completely off balance by now. _And what's with people sneaking up on me today_? _I'm the scout for crying out loud_!

"What are you waiting for?" The dwarf chuckled at his stare. "Give it to her already, don't be too loud or the Commander will have a fit though."

"I..." Nathaniel looked back at Velanna's tent, then blinked as he turned to narrow his eyes at Sigrun. "...the Commander? What about the Commander?"

"Oh she forbade Velanna to be with you." Sigrun explained cheerfully, all grins at Nathaniel's blank star, then shrugged, smirking. "Which of course means she'll do the exact opposite..." She shot him a wink. "...lucky dog."

"She's..." Nathaniel frowned as he looked over at the camp, finding Lynn still staring into the dirt, more dead than alive. "...just out of defiance?" It was like a weight dropped upon his shoulders. Why Lynn would forbid Velanna to be with him was obvious...though a bit of a bleak way of thinking. But why _Velanna_ would do the opposite out of sheer defiance was just...it boggled the mind. _Surely she could have other reasons_... He sighed, his mood dropping.

Sigrun, suddenly slightly more serious, offered a kind smile: "The Commander forbade Velanna _due_ to her interest...not the other way around."

"I..." Nathaniel nodded, it was _easy_ to recall their talks, their careful little dance around one another...it was some of the few good memories he had had in...a _long_ time. "...y-yes...yes you're right." He straightened and took a deep breath, clearing his head. _I'm acting like a fool_... "Thank you."

For a brief moment Sigrun remained silent, then sighed: "_So_? What are you waiting for?"

He looked over at the tent, the flap slightly open, inviting, and found himself smiling. "No." _Not because she wants to prove something_. "I can wait." _Until when she really wants to_. The smile turned into a grin.

The dwarf sighed. "Idiot."

Nathaniel's grin only widened. "That's love for you..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being great._


	30. Chapter 30

She hated him.

She hated that now shaven jawline. She hated his weathered skin. She hated the way he moved. She hated his unruly dark hair. She hated that dry and controlled voice of his. She hated the wide hands holding his beautiful bow with such intimate knowledge. She hated his dark grey eyes that found hers so easily, hated how friendly and inviting they were.

And she hated his smile!

That teasing, confident little smile that had been playing on his lips for the entire day! A smile that was so damn _happy_! Happy and aimed at _her_! As if the mere sight of her made him _glad_! As if her frustration was something to _enjoy_!

Most of all she hated that hint of gratitude within herself though!

Last night she had been afraid, huddled within her tent she had waited, nervous beyond words...practically shaking. She had realised something was wrong...that what _she_ did was wrong, or rather, that it was wrong to sleep with Nathaniel simply to defy Lynn!

And he hadn't shown up.

She had felt relief then, then worry...unable to keep herself from thinking _why_ she felt relief. She had embraced anger then, simply to defend herself from thinking about her and Nathaniel, of _them_...it was a _terrifying_ thought...to think of the two of them together in _all_ meanings of the word...it went against her instincts. _Yet_...

_No_, _hate_ _him_. Her command to herself lacked any heat though, making her growl in frustration as she tried to distract herself with her surroundings.

It was easy to do so, the sights around her making her anger swell with renewed ferocity.

The Blackmarsh was a choked wasteland.

The stench was the first that struck any observer. The putrid stench of rotting animals, swelling into balloons of fur and flesh as they lay half submerged in the black filth of the swamp. The smell of tress dying, bark thin as paper and black like death, rotten and slowly melting off the trunks. The smell of sick water that had stayed still for far too long. The whole area stunk of it.

It was the stench of disease.

To her annoyance Nathaniel suddenly walked into her field of vision, or maybe she shifted her gaze, she wasn't sure any more. Walking slightly ahead of the group the man was slightly crouched as he moved, silent and deadly like only a true hunter could be, eyes focused on something only the eyes of a veteran scout could see… Yet he seemed to sense her gaze, again, and glanced back, shooting her a smile.

_Warmth_. Velanna found herself biting her lip and looking away, a wave of gratefulness rolling over her before she suppressed it.

_I do not __owe__ him anything_! _I_..._I_ _should_ _be_ _angry_..._or_..._frustrated_. _But_..._I only want things to be_..._right_.

The sight of the Blackmarsh made her close her fists in rage though, pushing aside the sudden emotions with one she was far better equipped to handle.

Everything was filthy, dark leaves mouldy to the point of disintegrating as they lay on the ground, yet they didn't rot away, lingering, as if clinging to what little existence was left. Their barren mothers towered silent above them, all bent under an unseen burden, their cores rotted with a foulness not of their own making. Even the stones and ground were foul, covered with dead moss and ruined spider webs.

Most of all it was the silence, the _utter_ stillness of the place...

Not a single animal could be heard or seen, not even an insect. There was no wind, no rustling of the dead leaves, no moving of rotten trees. Just...silence.

Despite their silent steps Velanna felt like a trespasser as she and the rest of the group slowly made their way through the marsh...it angered her. She was a keeper! One with the forest! A master of the land and breather of life! Communicator with nature! Yet all she felt here was silence...silence and death, she knew she should dread it...instead she just felt anger.

It was made all the worse that the silence and death wasn't natural. It wasn't an imbalance in nature itself, no rot in the trees, no sickness within the water, no filth in the ground.

It all emanated from the building ahead.

The houses surrounding the main building, once a mansion, were just gutted skeletons, walls and ceiling long since having been torn asunder, leaving only ruins and the odd bony remains of someone since long trapped beneath remaining.

Yet the main building remained standing, oddly untouched by time and the surrounding destruction. With an intact wall around it, topped with blackened steel spikes, and with a sharply pointed roof topped with a curving black wire of steel that at once might have been a beautiful decoration, but now only resembled a gnarled vine, was intimidating in the evening darkness. A darkness that seemed all the deeper when they slowly approached the closed gate.

With the dreadful silence Velanna almost wished the gate would fly open like that of a fortress, that the dark windows would glow with light and banish the growing darkness, that the absent defenders would spew from such a surprisingly well-kept monster of a house and shatter the silence with their roars of hatred.

Yet nothing happened.

They passed the first shell of a house, the pale skull of a child still in a broken crib staring up at Velanna as she looked at it. _It's_ _almost_..._as_ _if_ _it's_ _following_ _me_... She glared at the thing, daring it to try anything.

Ahead of her the shadow of the mansion fell upon her.

_Death_. _Pride_. _Greed_. _Hatred_.

Coming to a halt she shuddered, struggling to focus as something _old_ washed over her...a lingering..._something_...

_There is something that shouldn't be disturbed here, save by fire_. Her gaze darted over to Nathaniel, who shot her a reassuring smile.

She found herself smiling back, annoyed with herself...yet _not_.

Her shoulders dropped, tension fading. _It'll be okay_.

"Dead man." Sigrun's voice made Velanna and Nathaniel jump in unison, drawing a grin to the dwarf's face as she pointed at the closed gate. "Eyes _front_ scout, he's right under your nose."

A weary chuckle escaped Mhairi even as Lynn shot Velanna a withering glare, making the Dalish blush even as she raised her chin and defiantly glared back._ I make no excuses_. To her surprise the other elf looked away first, shoulders sloping in defeat.

Nathaniel only shrugged as he turned to look down at the corpse, dry voice noting without a hint of shame or irritation: "So it is, my apologies."

Letting her gaze linger on the suddenly tired-looking Lynn for a bit longer Velanna finally shrugged, she didn't want to know...the other elf was just too..._painful_ to understand. Instead she moved closer to Nathaniel's find, or rather, _Sigrun's_...which the dwarf smugly declared by putting an armoured foot upon the shoulder of the corpse with a meaning smile aimed at the archer.

The man ignored the dwarf though, frowning he crouched down to get a closer look on it, only briefly glancing back as Velanna came closer and timidly placed a hand on his shoulder. It felt...right.

Nathaniel's calm observation was just what she had expected...and made her smile, despite the ugliness of the subject. "Still in armour, skin and flesh...a fresher corpse then these skeletons strewn around the village. In armour, a warrior...arrow in his neck...someone must have sneaked up on him. But why is it lying curled up on its side?"

Sigrun's foot pushed the body onto its back, revealing a gaunt face nearly bereft of hair, pale dead eyes staring up at them. Despite being male the face was painfully similar to Lynn's, gaunt and dead...Velanna shook her head, forcing herself not to think about it. If Nathaniel thought something similar she couldn't hear it as he said: "Damn, the warden seal on his armour, this is probably Kristoff Commander."

Only then did Lynn approach, her steps almost...reluctant, tired, making Velanna raise her eyebrows in question. The Commander ignored her though, her dead eyes looking down at the corpse without any sign of caring, then reached towards the sword still strapped to the warrior's waist...only to _stop_, eyes narrowing: "Why is he lying in front of the gate?"

Silence.

Then Nathaniel _flinched_.

Followed by Sigrun.

A muttered oath escaped Mhairi as they all heard slow steps of steel against gravel, the woman's sword out of its sheathe as she glared at the closed gate before them. Velanna freed her staff as well, feeling a surge of..._something_...making her skin prickle.

Lynn however, turned.

Following suit Velanna felt rather then saw the others do the same as her focus went to the lone creature stalking towards them.

A single darkspawn, a curved sword of black steel strapped to its waist as it slowly moved towards them, as if it had all the time in the world. The black chainmail it wore was of fine make, the boots of burnished dark steel. The its face was the standard wicked grin of a hurlock, yet at the same time _not_, something with it more...human? _No_..._not_ _human_..._just_..._thinking_.

Velanna moved to cast...only to stop as Lynn raised a hand, stopping the group dead.

_What is she_... Velanna eyes widened as the other elf sauntered to meet the darkspawn.

The two stopped five feet from one another, arms to their sides, almost relaxed as they eyed one another. One with a mere hint of interest, the other with a malicious grin.

"Speak." Lynn's command was weary, yet strong. "I know you can."

"The killer of the song..." The creature growled back, its voice harsh and guttural, not meant to speak the words leaving its mouth, with a start Velanna realised it was referring to Lynn. _Killer_ _of_ _song_..._what does that mean_? A quick glance back revealed that Nathaniel was thinking the same question. "...Mother has a gift for you."

"Mother?" Lynn snapped, crossing her arms in front of her, not the least worried by the growing grin of the creature, if Velanna hadn't seen the woman fight she would have thought her arrogant.

"The one with the _true_ sight, who knows what _must_ be sung anew." The darkspawn replied, looking arrogant all of a sudden, then turned spiteful: "Not paltry shadows of who we truly are, who hide and skulk and wishes to forget."

"The architect." Lynn muttered, making Velanna feel a shudder run down her spine. _Sister_..._I'll_ _find_ _you_... She barely felt Nathaniel's hand on her shoulder.

"The father's _weak_!" The creature spat, its fist raised in hatred. "Mother knows what's best! She'll blot out the land with our numbers! Slay you pathetic wardens! Cover the land with the _true_ darkspawn! And..." It grinned again, dirty fangs bared. "...release the song once more."

_The_ _song_...Another shudder ran down Velanna's spine, an instinctual..._fear_.

Lynn looked...very old all of a sudden. Shoulders sloped she regarded the darkspawn, eyes tired: "And this gift?"

Somehow the grin of the creature went even wider, the raised fist opening. "A gift...to ensure you will not end _this_ song..."

_This_ _song_? Velanna felt like retching, something within her rebelling as she understood. _Gods_..._the_ _archdemon_...

Then there was light, making her stagger, momentarily blinded.

Blinking she saw a light, sickly green, held in the palm of the darkspawn's hand, arching out like tentacles of some alien beast, moving towards them..._rushing_ at them.

_I_ _can't_...

The darkspawn _screamed_, finding the coiling light striking it too, eyes widening in shock.

It was no comfort, the sick light blotting out everything as it flew at her

_Smashed_ into her.

_Skewered_ her.

She felt herself falling.

_Nathaniel_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her worship. ;-)_


	31. Chapter 31

The fade was...different than Velanna remembered it.

Usually when she fell asleep the fade was more desolate, more...serene, empty fields where the occasional spirit wandered, which she usually avoided, knowing better then to risk any encounters when it could lead to her being possessed. A mage knew to be careful in the fade, to hide, to build defences.

Yet now she was _seeking_ the battles, the spirits...in a portion of the fade where _structure_ existed...far more then the bad mirrors of the real world the spirits of the fade at time tried to create. She knew it was due to whatever thing that darkspawn had unleashed upon her...yet she found the high walls of white bone unnerving, even _with_ the familiar green sky above their heads.

The walls were a maze.

A maze that _shifted_. Velanna remembered her lessons well, whatever the thing had done to this portion of the fade the place was still ruled by your mind, and a mind could _shift_... Yet it took some concentration to do so...and Velanna often found her small group funnelled the path where the resistance of the walls were weaker.

She refused to ponder the significance too much though, to worry about any potential trap, such thoughts were _dangerous_, a lure for demons she had no desire to tangle with in addition to the burden she was already shouldering.

Though not _physically_ behind her, the two women at her back were with her, in spirit and mind...which was what mattered where they were.

They hadn't been too hard to find, demons preyed upon the spirits of the living, and those sent there by other means but sleep were easy for such creatures to find. As such Velanna had simply followed the _pull_ in her mind, a pull demanding her to find _it_...the ripples in the water, the disturbance of the natural disorder of the fade, the wind of change...

She had found Sigrun first of all. The dwarf had been trapped in some sort of...tunnel Velanna supposed it had been, assailed by...even now she wasn't sure what the demons had been supposed to be. Everything at the place had been blurry, hazy, _confusing_, as if the demons that had trapped their prey hadn't been sure how to deal with her.

Velanna wasn't sure why, perhaps because dwarves weren't supposed to dream at all...perhaps because the dwarf symbolically was dead, and the dead did not dream. _Or maybe because she's too crazy to understand_. Velanna smirked at the thought and shot the dwarf on her left a smile, surprised by the affection she felt as the dwarf offered her an uncomfortable grin, obviously still perturbed by the strange land she was in. _Life out here has softened me_...

Strangely Velanna didn't mind the change, and once again looked around for the chief architect of that change...yet once more she didn't find him. _No worry yet, perseverance always wins out_... She fiddled with the hem of her robe, despite it not _really_ being there...and bit her lower lip. _I'll find him_.

Mhairi had been a bit harder to find. Since distance had nothing to do with the way to others in the fade Velanna knew it had been something else keeping her away from the knight. _Shame_.

They had found Mhairi on a muddied battlefield, her sword and armour spotless on a field covered with broken bodies and blood. On her knees within a cage of black steel the woman hadn't moved at their approach, the woman just sitting there, staring into the distance.

Staring at a city, a city with a tall tower in its centre...a city in flames.

The guilt and shame had been like a flood, a flood rushing against Velanna, forcing her to struggle against it to reach the spotless knight that was set on staring at the burning city, not even noticing the bars holding her captive.

But Velanna had struck the cage, spoken the words of power, thought upon Nathaniel...and let the sudden joy slam into the bar like a physical blow. For in the fade that was what it was. Or perhaps a poison rather, the antithesis of what the demon was, what the demon fed upon.

The cage had buckled...then broken...the demon that it was howling as it melted away, fled into the ground.

She and Sigrun had moved to help Mhairi up...and the knight had gladly taken their offered hands, giving them a shaky smile.

None had said anything.

And now they were looking for the rest, for the Commander...and Nathaniel.

Yet the two proved difficult to find, why Velanna wasn't sure. She _could_ understand Lynn perhaps, the woman held far too much pain within her to wish to see anyone...Velanna was sure demons would find dozens of ways to approach and feed upon the elf's injured soul. But _Nathaniel_...she had _no_ idea why it was so hard to find him.

_Is he in pain_? _Some_ _hidden_ _problem_? _I_ _doubt_ _it_..._shame_? _No_..._he_ _isn't_ _one_ _for_ _wallowing_. _But_ _what_...?

Velanna felt her worry mount.

Only to find herself before a door.

The group came to a stumbling halt, the two others shooting Velanna questioning looks, not daring to speak, as the mage frowned in worry and confusion. Scratching the tip of her chin Velanna eyed the door with a glower. _Did_ _it_ _appear_ _due_ _to_ _my_ _worry_? _A_ _trap_ _set_ _by_ _a_ _demon_? _It_ _was_ _awfully_ _fast_... _Or was it merely my __worry__ opening the path, my mind forging a new way to the one I lo-wish to find_? She smirked at her own transparency. _I_ _want_ _to_ _find_ _him_..._because_ _I_..._I_... the smirk turned into a grin. _I_ _don't_ _dare_ _thinking_ _it_! _But I __will__ find him_...

She eyed the door, noting the worn brass handle, the sturdy wood, the faded blazon upon it, a bear..._Amaranthine_.

_Screw_ _it_.

She pushed the door open and stalked in, staff in her hand.

And found herself in a throne room, the centre dominated by a warm fire..._Vigil's_ _Keep_? Raising a hand she commanded silence, sensing Mhairi was about to ask the same.

Then two guards stood before her, armoured in splint mail of grey iron and with drawn sword...yet it was all a illusion. Velanna saw into their eyes...and saw their otherness. _Demons_..._minor_ _ones_. She bared her teeth in a snarl and felt the creatures within the illusions of soldiers cower, knowing their spirits were in danger of being ripped asunder.

As one the two stepped aside, letting the group past. Velanna offered them each a curt nod. _Wise_ _choice_.

Then she heard Nathaniel.

Heard him laughing.

Stalking forth with a bit too much haste to her steps Velanna saw the man...and stumbled to a stop.

A dining table had been dragged out in front of the empty throne, a dining table cramped with all manner of delicacies, most of which Velanna didn't recognise. Sitting at the head of the table was a slim old man, his grey hair topping a gaunt and worn face with a hawkish nose, his leather armour reminding Velanna of Nathaniel's own. Despite his weasel-like features the man looked oddly pleasant as he smiled, _unnaturally_ even, it was as if Velanna was seeing a fish flying... With a sigh she realised the man was someone Nathaniel knew...yet not, changed, different...and she felt worry.

Nathaniel sat to the man's right, his skin paler and less weathered then usual, his armour less gritty, hair shorter and better kept...his tunic green and simple, despite the golden embroideries in the seams. Velanna _wanted_ to rush forth, _wanted_ to rip him away from whatever foulness the demons were dealing with this time...yet _held _knowing that she had to wait...had to wait for him to be _ready_.

To the left of the weasel of a man and opposite Nathaniel another man sat, though sharing his features the man was slightly different to Nathaniel, his shoulders broader, his neck thicker, nose slightly longer, his hair shorter kept. Sitting far more rigid in his chair then Nathaniel the man also sported a short sword sheathed to his side, though he hardly seemed to notice as he with gusto devoured the food before him.

And next to him...a woman Velanna remembered...Nathaniel's sister. Still beautiful and kind-looking the woman seemed more...at ease then when they had met her in Amaranthine, the demon playing her apparently set on creating a pleasant façade as it held out a plate towards the only human really at the table and spoke with a light tone: "An apple brother?" 

Nathaniel grinned from ear to ear as he reached out and plucked one of the fruits from the plate. "My thanks sister, have you considered your marriage plans any further."

The 'woman' bowed her head ever so slightly. "Of course brother, I think you're right, he's a good man, and wealthy too..." The last she added with some wistfulness, as if she didn't really want the choice she had made.

Nathaniel only shot her a kind smile though as he said: "I only want what's best for you...you'll be safe and taken care of there, I..." A grimace, quickly pushed aside as the man kept fooling himself: "...don't want to worry about you."

"Of course not." The woman smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, I'll marry him and be safe."

Nathaniel visibly relaxed at the words even as the man opposite him reached out and playfully caught the woman's neck with his arm as he rumbled with the voice of a soldier: "Don't worry brother! I'll make sure she'll manage! She'll come to no harm with me nearby!"

The woman simply laughed as Nathaniel nodded, smile slightly pensive as he replied: "I know you will brother, always the responsible one eh?" _Wrong_. "I know I can always trust in you." _All_ _wrong_. Velanna felt it, _knew_ it...the scene before her was just that...a scene, not real, not even a memory...just something constructed for Nathaniel's benefit.

_You poor fool_... She sighed as she stepped closer.

The 'man' at the head of the table looked up then, eyes narrowing for the briefest of moments as he spotted her, the demonic essence within him flaring up in worry and hatred. It was gone a moment later though, replaced by a cool façade. "And you are? I don't recall inviting any guests, and you are clearly no servant of mine or I would have you whipped for dressing like some prostitute..."

Velanna bared her teeth in a growl, only to be interrupted by Nathaniel as he placed a hand on the man's forearm, smiling slightly as he spoke, as if chastising a child: "Calm down father, we've talked about this before haven't we? Respect the servants and elves in general, they're not our enemies."

"I...yes...of course." The demon playing Nathaniel's father feigned a smile as it shook its head. "Ah, a son raising his father...if I'd only known what a fine son you'd make...I would have kept you along during my travels more. Forgive an old man for his foolishness?"

"Of course father." Nathaniel patted the demon's hand, smiling kindly. "I still love you after all."

Velanna swallowed, painful sympathy stabbing her in the chest. As she saw the man...no...demon...smile back and put his own hand over Nathaniel's: "And I you son, never forget it."

_He's_ _happy_..._but_ _it's_ _just_ _a_ _lie_. She steeled her nerves, knowing what would have to come.

Then Nathaniel turned to face her...and there was no recognition in his eyes. "Are you perchance from a Dalish clan young woman? I do not remember us having one on our lands for some time...are you here over a disagreement? Or perhaps trade?"

"You...don't recognise me." Velanna knew it had been a possibility, yet it _hurt_...she swallowed..._hurt_. Deflating slightly she felt Mhairi's and Sigrun's hands on her shoulders, they didn't help, their sympathy only salt upon her wound.

"Should I?" The man arched an eyebrow, then _hesitated_...before shrugging. "I...don't believe I should. Now, was there something you wanted..." He eyed her staff. "...Keeper?"

_I can reach him_... Velanna shrugged off the helping hands even as she ignored the sting of doubt in her heart. _He looks so content_...she had to shook her head. _No, not content, it's faked, I __know__ it_. "Keeper? Perhaps...though you may call me a lady."

"Very well my..." Nathaniel stopped mid-sentence, a look of confusion on his face, then it faded as his 'father' placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking slightly drugged he shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "...lady." Another shake of his head and he focused upon her with an even gaze. "Now, what do you wish? As you can see we're in the middle of dinner here." He gestured for their table with a frown of irritation.

Shooting his 'father' a glare, knowing the heart of the disease in Nathaniel, Velanna took a step forth. "Yes, we're here to leave, we have darkspawn to defeat, remember?"

"N-no...I don't remember any darkspawn." Nathaniel hesitated, then glowered at her in frustration. "Now I have been a gracious host but if you'll continue with this strangeness I'll be forced to have you escorted out, Keeper or not."

Though worried, knowing that Nathaniel could indeed close his mind to her if she pushed too hard...Velanna continued._ There is no second chance_..._please_ _gods_..._please_... "Your father died." Gasps arose from the assembled at the table as they all rose to their feet. "Your brother too." The large man whirled to face her, short sword drawn, the hand around it momentarily shifting into a claw as the demon struggled to remain in control. "Only your sister survived."

Nathaniel was the only one remaining seated, the man pale, lower lip trembling as he stared at her. _Remembering_, _believing_...yet _not_. "I...no...that's not right..." He shook his head, first slightly, then more insistently, looking down at the table as his hands clenched into fists where they lay upon the table.

"Now you will-"

Velanna's glare silenced the demon that played Nathaniel's father, a slam of her staff against the floor stopping the one playing his brother from lunging. They were only minor demons, they would _not_ survive a fight with her...and they _knew_ it. Yet she couldn't fight them either, if she did...she wasn't sure what would happen with Nathaniel's already fragile mind.

They were at an impasse.

_Except_... "The Commander nearly died, remember?" Velanna watched Nathaniel twitch...and felt hope. "The taint within you...you feel it still?" He _did_, she _saw_ that he did...and it _confused_ him. "Mhairi, Sigrun, Anders, remember them?" Another twitch, Nathaniel looking sick as he kept staring down at the table. "Me? Velanna?" She smiled, softly, feeling a soft joy all of a sudden, and letting it emanate from her. "You remember me don't you...?"

"Lavender..." Nathaniel muttered the word, a small smile sneaking its way to his lips.

_Yes_!

Then he shook his head, looking away, shoulder shaking. "I...no...this is...no..."

_No_...

"I think it's time for you to leave..." Nathaniel's 'father' spoke, sounding sad even as his demonic eyes glowed with glee.

Velanna glared back, making the creature take a step back. "Not yet, no." She turned her gaze to Nathaniel, took a deep breath...and advanced. _You __will__ come with me_.

The man scrambled away at her approach, afraid, not of _her_...but of something he didn't understand, something he didn't _want_ to understand.

There was nowhere to go though, the armrests of the chair he sat on moving to envelope his arms at Velanna's command, its back legs tilting back to ease him back. _I'm_ _sorry_..._but_ _I_ _cannot_ _leave_ _you_..._not_ _here_... Velanna swallowed, then found herself smiling as she stood over the trembling man. _Not_ _ever_...

Leaning forth she cupped his chin, making him to go still as he stared up at her with a spark of confused recognition.

Her voice was but a soft whisper: "Remember..."

A kiss.

Tentative and careful.

Her other hand landed on his shoulder, then sneaked up behind his head, digging into his hair.

Thirsty and demanding.

As new as it was familiar.

As soothing as it was dizzying.

As passionate as it was calm.

The demons around them howled in pain and frustration as their deceptions evaporated.

As Nathaniel remembered her.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not melting reading this. ;-)_


	32. Chapter 32

Velanna felt Nathaniel's eyes on her.

So far they hadn't exchanged words since she had brought him out of his private dream...and she currently preferred it that way._ I had to kiss him didn't I_? Her forehead creased into a frown even as her lips quirked into a smirk, it was hard to be annoyed with herself for such a decision, though she _did_ try.

It was impossible to see it as a bad decision, it just...it was..._impossible_... Velanna found her frown fading as the smirk turned into a smile.

_Damn, I ought to focus_.

Behind her she sensed Nathaniel shift his feet as they stood before another white wall that their prison had erected. It only made her smile widen. _Not used to being led are we_? Nathaniel's tracking skills were useless in the fade, which he had admitted with the same calm neutrality as ever...yet by now there was a tangible frustration in his stance, an annoyance with having to follow, to be passive.

Velanna found it amusing.

Sigrun, who seemed to take anything thrown at her with dark humour and an even mood, seemed ready to stand behind the mage forever. And even Mhairi had seemed to come to accept the necessity to follow the elf through the strange land they were in. Only Nathaniel resisted it, refusing to accept himself as dependent, as weak.

_Like me_. Velanna's smile was nearly painful, the self-critical thought sitting oddly...well with her by now. It wasn't so...painful to think herself similar to a human, even something one would call a weakness.

_Focus_!

Shaking her head Velanna narrowed her eyes at the white stone before her, tapping it gently with her staff and feeling it waver, like a sheath rather then something solid...which after all..._nothing_ around them was.

A deep breath. _Commander_... Another. _Lynn_ _Tabris_... A third, her staff pushing against the stone, digging into it. _In_ _pain_.

Nothing happened, making Velanna frown.

_Sad_?

Nothing.

_Hate_?

Nothing.

_Confused_? _Shocked_? _Afraid_?

Still nothing, the stone before her merely solidifying as her focus wavered.

"This is..._vexing_." She murmured, glaring at the stone.

"What are you doing anyway?" Mhairi asked, the knight shifting, uncomfortable with all the magic around her, no doubt thinking herself becoming tainted with it as the Ferelden fools usually did. _Nathaniel's_ _a_ _Ferelden_ _fool_ _too_...

Feeling her shoulders drop Velanna decided to play things nice, though she didn't turn away from her work as she neutrally replied: "Trying to establish a gateway to our Commander. Now be quiet...please." A minuscule snort of amusement escaped Sigrun at that, making Velanna frown. _I can be nice when I want to_...

Something happened.

A ripple in the wall before her, making her blink in surprise.

_Nice_?

A ripple once more, a tentative opening, not _quite_ right...yet close to the mark...

_H_-_happy_?

The ripple turned into a shudder, a swirl of darkness within the wall.

_Happy_. Velanna couldn't believe she was picturing it, but she _did_. _The Commander_, _Lynn_ _Tabris_..._happy_.

With a thump the gateway became 'solid', the edges of the dark hole lined becoming lined with lichen for some reason as Lynn's dream pushed through the pathway.

_This_ _is_..._unexpected_. "We're supposed to go into that?" Nathaniel asked, sounding tense, Velanna only nodded, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"I..." She nodded again, hesitated, then shrugged. "...yes...let's go."

A step forward was all it took.

With a thud Velanna found herself bending her knees to ease the impact of her dropping onto soft ground. The others quickly following, Sigrun grunting slightly as the dwarf fell comparatively further then the others due to her height.

Looking around herself Velanna found her eyes widening in surprise.

They were at the edge of a clearing in a forest, a forest of tall trees full of luminous green leaves slowly shifting in an ethereal wind. Above them the dark night sky opened up, revealing a large white moon and shining stars...all strangely..._peaceful_.

It was _not_ what Velanna had expected.

Beneath their feet the grass was dark green and fresh, smelling faintly of dirt, solid and comforting.

She hadn't expected that either.

Ahead of them there was light, warm, living, _comforting_ light...drawing the group's gaze. It was a simple fire, large yet calm...warm..._inviting_. There was another fire further away, but that one looked cold and uninviting..._frightening_ even...Velanna instantly decided to ignore it and focus on the main camp.

Around it dark shadows of people sat upon fallen logs, apparently not the least bothered by the new arrivals at the edge of the camp. Some were talking, some were simply basking in the firelight...it was a scene of tranquillity. _Why_..._didn't_ _she_ _come_ _from_ _Denerim_? _This_ _looks_ _like_..._a_ _Dalish_ _camp_. Hesitating Velanna inched closer, the others silent shadows at her back.

The play of a lute softly rolled through the clearing.

A giant of a man, still dressed in full armour despite the late night, standing apart from the others, glared at the approaching group when they came closer. With his greyish skin he already looked part demon, his purple eyes strange as they bored into the group, making Velanna feel even smaller then she already was in comparison to him.

He made no move to bar their way though as he harrumphed and continued his slow march around the camp, hand moving up to push something small into his mouth.

Those closest to the approaching group was an odd pair, a male elf and a dwarf...Velanna heard Nathaniel and Mhairi both mutter something under their breaths, though she herself couldn't understand why. The dwarf was ugly and looked drunk...but other then that there was nothing odd with him, as for the elf...he simply looked too mischievous as he eyed the dwarf's ale.

Further away two women sat, one old and grey-haired, bent over her staff as she used it to poke the fire, eyes kind. The other was a red headed woman in one of those atrocious Chantry robes, but there was an oddly un-priestly smirk on the woman's lips as she slowly played on the lute in her lap, a smirk aimed at..._gods_.

Lynn looked..._healthier_. She was still gaunt and pale, but now more naturally so...healthily even. Dressed in nothing but a brown tunic the elf sat on the ground, one hand idly scratching the back of the ear of a massive Mabari hound lazily stretched out over her pale legs. She didn't seem to see the others, her amber eyes _soft_ as they gazed into the fire, a _content_ smile on her lips.

Her other hand was reaching up and back over her shoulder, holding the hand of a tall human sitting on the log behind her...whose abdomen she currently rested her head on as the pair rested in silence. The man was tall, blond...and looking down at Lynn with such kindness and unspoken affection that Velanna found herself struggling for breath all of a sudden.

He _was_ a demon, she _knew_ it...yet it was infinitely hard to _believe_ it as she saw him...saw the utter and complete selflessness nearly glowing from his being.

And in contrast to Nathaniel's dream it _didn't_ feel wrong...changed.

It was a true, unaltered memory.

Velanna swallowed.

Found herself unable to walk forward, to end it.

_She_ _looks_ _so_..._happy_.

The elf still didn't see them, her gaze finally leaving the fire as she looked up at the man she rested again, smiling softly.

He needed no further invitation, bending down where he sat he kissed her lightly, yet his lips lingered, holding hers just a bit longer, as if unwilling to leave hers.

When they finally parted Lynn's ears were visibly red, her breathing heavier, lips still formed for a kiss as she with closed eyes kept leaning back against him.

The man chuckled at her expression and muttered something inaudible, making the woman smirk, the hand scratching the mabari momentarily darting up to playfully smack the man in the chest.

Another song of the lute, slow and soothing, making the elven man yawn theatrically and stretch his arms out, nearly catching the elder woman's shoulder, earning him a scolding look from her that earned a soft chuckle from the gathered group.

It was...tranquil.

"I...can't..." It was a mere whisper escaping her lips.

Velanna winced and looked away, away from the _whole_ person before her. Back in the real world their Commander was a sick beast, harsh and cruel, ready to sink its fangs into anything...a monster, a dog so whipped it hated _everything_.

Here she was a woman, happy...relaxed..._content_...who was Velanna to take it away from her?

Without her sister Velanna felt haunted...torn...constantly driven, as if something was pushing at her to move on. In a way Lynn seemed to be the same...yet it was _too_ much..._too_ many losses..._too_ much grief...yet here she had found _peace_.

It was like seeing the sun for the first time.

"I can." Nathaniel muttered, even less passion in his voice then usual as he brushed past Velanna and marched towards the camp.

"Don't-" Velanna's protest died in her throat as the lute's playing stopped with a twang of a broken string.

All eyes were suddenly on Nathaniel, the soft whispers having _stopped_, the calm _broken_, the tranquillity _gone_...now there was only a guardedness as the demons impersonating strangers eyed Nathaniel with strangely neutral gazes, the demons too caught up in their act to truly _be_ angry any more...infected by Lynn's calm.

And Nathaniel just stood there, eyeing the one they had come for.

The woman seemingly didn't notice him, or that the atmosphere had changed, her eyes still fixed upon the man she rested again, _drinking_ him in, as if...in a hurry?

_She_ _knows_...?

"Commander." Nathaniel's voice was low, yet demanded attention, a careful probe at the nearly unrecognisable woman before him.

The elf didn't react at first, eyes large as she kept staring at the man, her shoulders tensing up, breathing becoming more laboured.

Then a whimper escaped her, a pained little sound...

Only then did she turn her head, looking over at Nathaniel, a hint of wetness in the corner of her eyes. "Nathaniel..." The name was spoken...and the elf shuddered, looked away, the hand in the man's clenching his tighter.

A worried whine escaped the mabari at her feet, the demon playing a dog shooting its mistress a questioning look...then whined again at the pained look she shot it.

It rose...and trotted away, disappearing into the darkness.

After having looked after the mabari with longing eyes until it had disappeared Lynn turned her eyes back to Nathaniel...then shifted the gaze over to Velanna.

_Pain_.

Velanna winced at the naked emotions looking back at her, yet found herself unable to look away as Lynn spoke: "Velanna..."

The giant patrolling the camp turned to dust, the distant fire containing something unwanted flickered...then died.

Another turn of her gaze: "Sigrun."

The dwarf and elf faded away, turning into ash before their very eyes, the demons holding their forms silently banished, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to remain.

Another turn: "Mhairi."

The two women faded away, the woman playing the lute shaking her head in mute sorrow.

And then only they remained, the real people, Lynn...and the man that didn't even seem to notice them, his soft gaze fixed on the elf below him as he kept holding her hand, his other coming to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it softly, _begging_.

"You..." Mhairi's voice was choked, small. "...knew this was a dream?"

"I've...experienced this before..." Lynn answered, looking down at her lap. "I.." She hesitated, her eyes suddenly so expressive that Velanna couldn't look away from them, despite the pain it caused her. "..._knew_ you'd find me in the end." She looked up, at _Velanna_...and the mage found tears trickling down her cheeks, the words were meant to be kind perhaps...but it felt like an accusation, a _painful_ accusation..._shaming_ her.

"I..." She tried to answer, but no words came. _Wish_ _you_ _could_ _stay_...

The other elf nodded, smiling at Velanna despite her eyes brimming with tears, understanding. "It's okay..." She moved to rise-

Yet could not move as the man behind her kept his hand on her shoulder. It wasn't the demon acting though, trying to keep its grip on her, it was the _man_..._clinging_ to her. Even his _voice_ was kind...but tinged with sadness. "Lynn..._please_...stay..."

Lynn hesitated.

Then smiled, reached up and pried the man's hand off her shoulder. It was easy, the man wasn't resisting...only looking at her with eyes like a puppy, silently _begging_.

She released his hand, slowly, fingers lingering against his before pulling her hand away, putting it down in the dirt as she pushed herself up and around, onto her knees.

She looked up at the man...who by now was crying, his hands hanging limply at his sides, powerless. "_Stay_..."

Again she hesitated.

Again she acted, shaking her head. "_Alistair_..." A choked sound escaped her, her small frame shaking as she bent forward, hand coming to rest on the man's cheek. "..._soon_...my _love_..."

She kissed him, carefully, softly, as if afraid he'd shatter by anything more.

The kiss lingered.

She only reluctantly moved her lips away from his, shaking nearly uncontrollably as she took a step away, then another, her voice small and quaking: "I...I'll a-always...M-Maker..."

A sob and she looked away, hands coming up to her face.

The man began to fade, yet didn't seem to notice it as he stared up at the woman, grieving with her, his voice fading, distant: "But I love you..."

"A-and I y-you..." Lynn visibly swayed as she moved to walk away, as if drunk. Her arms dropping to her sides, revealing eyes firmly closed, as if trying to stem the flood of tears pouring out of them: "Wh-which is w-why I c-can't c-ome wi-with y-you..."

A gush of wind and the fire died out, the man disappearing, the stars flickering into darkness, the moon simply fading away.

Leaving only darkness.

Lynn's voice was but a whisper in the darkness: "Th-the r-real A-Alistair w-would ha-have k-known th-that..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being as great as she can be._


	33. Chapter 33

Then there was light.

Nathaniel caught himself shouting, a hand coming up to protect himself from the sudden flash of illumination suddenly enveloping them.

_This world makes no sense, first you're in one place, then another, there's nothing governing it_! Biting down both his frustration and his shout Nathaniel forced his hand down, trying to see where they were _this_ time.

The ground was stamped dirt...or rather an illusion of it...a road. Nathaniel frowned at it, as he did at the high grass on either side. _Just illusions, nothing real_...Yet it _looked_ real, he had _felt_ his surroundings and felt it to be _real_...how did one know the real from the unreal in such a world? It was a frustrating thought, with an equally frustrating answer. He _knew_ it wasn't real, it wasn't the sudden shifts of the world, not even the fact that some things just didn't _look_ like they should...but a clear sense of things _not_ being real...that simply was _there_, like a itch just behind his shoulder blades.

It was galling to think he couldn't understand it better than that.

He found his gaze drawn to Velanna, finding the mage smirking at him with a teasing glint in her eyes, her mouth curved in a nearly wicked way. Clearly she was enjoying his frustration, the idea of _him_ being _lost_...of _her_ being the _guide_.

Normally Nathaniel would have frowned at it, or more likely, ignored it, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing that she was getting to him.

Now however, he found his face blank, a hand coming up to his face, brushing his lips carefully, still feeling the imprint there, as if he'd been marked.

_She kissed me_...

Velanna's smirk faltered as she saw his movement...then turned into a smile, a _careful_, yet _real_ _smile_.

Nathaniel felt his breathing slow.

Then the moment was over, the elf turning back to the road, yet inclining her head towards the Commander as she spoke, voice tinged with a surprising amount of concern, considering who was speaking: "Lynn are you...?"

The other elf shook her head. Now back in her silvery plate armour she looked a bit more solid then before. Yet there was a definite slouch in her stance, her head hanging low, her eyes red-rimmed and dark as they stared into the distance. A grunt and she pulled up her helmet, her words clipped: "I'm fine."

The helmet snapped into place.

The elf straightened, her head rose.

It was nothing but feigned bravado, a lie.

_A lie she's telling herself_... Nathaniel grimaced, remembering the lie he'd told himself not too long ago...and found the others in the group grimacing as well.

"Let's go." The Commander moved, forcing the others to follow or be left behind, compelling them to shift their focus away from her, to focus on what was ahead.

Nathaniel only did so reluctantly. _How long until she snaps_? _She's on the edge, __anyone__ can sense it, and if she __does__ break apart_..._what_ _then_?_ I can't just take command, not without any agreement that it should be so_. _And_ _with_ _disaster_ _looming_..._we_ _need_ _her_, _however_ _broken_ _she_ _is_... _Should_ _we_ _try_ _to_ _help_ _her_? _To heal her, if only a little_..._or_ _would_ _trying_ _it_ _break_ _her_? _There's no good options_...

He shrugged, forcing himself to focus. _Such thoughts are meaningless unless we get out of here_.

The road ahead wasn't long, the end plainly in sigh, a round yard in the centre of a healthy-looking village, one end dominated by a surprisingly _familiar_ building...

_The_..._village_? _The_ _mansion_? _But_ _we're_ _not_ _in_ _the_ _real_ _world_... Nathaniel shot Velanna a questioning look but found no answer in her back as the woman remained focused on the approaching sight. Yet there was a _clear_ hint of tension in her shoulders...Nathaniel unslung his bow, finding the silent Sigrun and Mhairi drawing their weapons too as they huddled closer to the rest of the group, no doubt as uncomfortable with the surroundings as Nathaniel was.

The angry voices suddenly calling through to them did nothing to ease that tension and Nathaniel smoothly nocked an arrow onto his bow, eyes narrowing at the sight before him becoming clear as the group came closer.

The gate of the wall surrounding the mansion was closed, as it had been in the real world. Yet before it was no half-rotten corpse, instead there was a gathering of what had to be _villagers_...despite Nathaniel knowing they couldn't be _true_ villagers. He shot Velanna another questioning look and found the woman having cocked her head to the side in an oddly Lynn-like gesture of puzzlement.

Their angry shouts were aimed at the closed gate, closed fists being shaken at the _lit_ windows of the mansion. Nathaniel couldn't help but think of the villagers Lynn had killed, the scene was so...similar. He eyed the Commander, but saw no sign of her seeing the resemblance as she marched forth, apparently unfazed by the sight.

Then a voice, different than the villagers, unearthly without being malicious, called out: "_Show_ yourself baroness! You _cannot_ hide in your mansion forever! Come out and face _Justice_!"

"We've been here long enough!" A villager agreed even as others startled moved aside before the new arrivals, revealing..._something_...standing before the gate at the head of the angry villagers.

It was shaped like a human, a human in full armour and with a sword drawn in his right hand while his left was raised in a clenched fist against the gate. Yet it was clearly _not_ human, its body nearly transparent, a white glow surrounding the edges of its body, as if they were barely able to contain it in its current shape.

And righteous fury was practically _seething_ from it, a palpable emotion that rolled over Nathaniel as he approached, the only reason he knew it wasn't his own feelings being the sheer _intensity_ of it...inhuman in its power.

Nathaniel didn't have time to ponder the strange creature, nor the scene, however, as one of the windows to the mansion swung open.

Revealing a woman.

_I_..._don't_ _understand_. Nathaniel shot Velanna a helpless look, feeling lost, but the woman ignored him, eyes intense as she watched the events, seeing something he perhaps couldn't with her unworldly senses.

The new arrival was easy to read however. Her skin was as pale as Lynn's, but made so by white powder, further intensifying the already thick black colour painted around her eyes and the clear blush on her cheeks. Her hair was carefully arranged and cut to make her face look narrower then it really was, as well as topped by a thin golden crown. That combined with her carefully plucked eyebrows, the haughtily raised chin and the sneer on her darkly painted lips and there was not a shadow of a doubt that they were looking at a proud noble. A far _too_ proud noble.

"Have we not been through this already spirit?" The woman's voice was a sneer, full of contempt as she looked down at the glowing man at the head of the wide-eyed villagers now all staring at the approaching group, staring with _hope_...? "These are _my_ servants, leave my lands and myself alone!"

The glowing creature shook its head, wearily, no doubt having had the discussion before. How many times Nathaniel didn't dare guessing... "Death should have _freed_ them from servitude! You were _unjust_ to them in life, and _doubly_ so in death! You shall release them and face your _punishment_! Face _Justice_!"

The sneer never left the woman's face as she scoffed at the creature. "They are mine by right and you cannot take them from me! Begone spirit, or I will stoop to do to you what I've desired to do for ages!"

"Try it!" The spectral shape raised its sword, eagerness rushing into Nathaniel, eagerness for _battle_. "_Justice_ will prevail if you come down foul creature! Come down and face your _judgement_!"

"I think..." The woman's voice trailed off as her eyes moved to focus on the new arrivals, so clearly standing out among the villagers move aside before them. For a moment her arrogant sneer disappeared. "...not?" It returned with renewed force a moment later: "Ah, so they got free did they? The darkspawn told me so...should have known..."

_Darkspawn_? _The_ _one_ _who_ _sent_ _us_ _here_? Nathaniel found himself clenching his bow tightly, judging the distance to the window above, wondering if he could put an arrow into the woman and be done with it, or rather...if such a thing _could_ actually _hurt_ her. _Then again, don't know if that's the right course of action_... He looked to the Commander for orders.

And found none as the elf approached the gate, head cocked to the side as she eyed the glowing creature that now turned to face them, her tone guarded: "And you are?"

The creature bowed its helmet-clad head, an oddly courteous gesture for something not truly human. "I am the spirit of Justice, these villagers are unwitting slaves of this monster of a woman, dragged with her to serve her in death." It gestured for the now silent villagers clustering around them, eyes dark and desperate, desperate for..._relief_. Nathaniel winced at it. _To desire death_..._I_ _have_ _a_ _hard_ _time_ _imagining_ _it_. He shot the Commander a short glance at the thought.

"I only wish to leave this place." Lynn replied, tone cold and uncaring, yet with an undercurrent of weariness, perhaps sensing what was to come.

Nathaniel almost felt himself echoing her weariness. _Why can't we ever do something that doesn't end with a fight_?

"This place is held together by the _will_ of the baroness." The creature gestured up at the woman still sneering down at them. "If we slay her I will free these poor victims." it gestured to the still silent villagers, many who seemed to be...wavering? Nathaniel frowned and shot Velanna a questioning look, finding the elf pale and frowning as well, puzzled by...something. _Wish I had magic_... "And if you _help_ me fight her, I will _return_ you to your world, it's only what is _Just_."

A barely perceivable shrug of the Commander, voice tired: "Figures..." Another shrug, her back straightening, voice dark: "You have a deal spirit, betray me and I will hunt you into oblivion."

"I am no demon." The creature bowed its head, almost looking...solemn. "I will honour our covenant."Even as it spoke the words one of the villagers stumbled, an odd groan escaping him as he moved a hand to his head.

Nathaniel frowned in worry, wathcing as a female village stumbled onto one knee, a hiss slipping from her lips. Lynn merely scoffed, ignoring the confusing changes in the crowd, despite probably being aware of it, in contrast to the oblivious Justice: "You better."

Then the villagers fell onto their knees, hands coming to clutch their heads as howls of pain escaped their mouths.

Nathaniel froze, a sudden fright washing over him, paralysing him.

A growl of rage escaped the glowing creature as it whirled to face the mansion, head craning to glare up at the window where the baroness grinned down at him in victory. Her tone arrogant: "You have _allies_ now spirit? You think you are now _strong_ enough to face me? Allies are a _weakness_ creature...and now you have forced my hand." The grin turned vicious. "I'm going to _enjoy_ this..."

With that the powdered noble reached back and wrenched, pulling the darkspawn that had sent them into the fade into sight.

It was a sad sight.

Its dark chainmail was rent and torn, dark blood crusted over both armour and its pale face, its dark eyes dim and unseeing, the monster wavering where it stood, as if drunk.

Its arms hung to its sides, broken and useless, white bone sticking out through broken armour.

Nathaniel almost found himself pitying it.

"Now you will pay the price for your incessant care for my servants." The woman held the creature with its left hand as the other was raised high...and extended..._morphed_.

Nathaniel found himself taking a step backwards along with Velanna. Mhairi made a sign of protection while Sigrun merely chuckled and eyed the change with childlike interest.

Lynn simply stood there, resignation made flesh.

In moments the baroness' right forearm was a black claw, longer then her original arm, tipped with curving blades of black bone and scales. Her grin was oddly extended, showing pointed teeth as she spoke, the voice strangely bass in tone all of a sudden: "You want them? I will give you a chance to free them...shame you won't survive it."

A deep chuckle...and the woman that wasn't really a woman any more plunged her claw into the chest of the darkspawn, drawing a strangled howl out of it before it simply shuddered and collapsed against the claw in its chest. Somehow the baroness was easily able to hold the far larger creature upright as she dug deeper into the dead darkspawn's chest...a whispered chant escaping her lips.

"This can't be good..." Sigrun's mumble was barely perceivable as the air grew humid, a cold wetness suddenly pressing against Nathaniel's face, even though he couldn't _see_ any reason for it.

The woman pulled her claw free in an explosion of gore, freeing a still beating heart from the darkspawn's chest, a victorious grin on her face as she looked down at the group beneath her. "I free you all...enjoy it for the brief moments of life left to you."

The heart in the woman's clawed hand suddenly glowed with sickly green light...

_Should have shot her when I had the chance_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her continued support._


	34. Chapter 34

Mud.

_Wet_ mud.

Sticking to her face.

To her body.

Muttering a curse that was as much a groan Velanna opened her eyes, finding her face half submerged in wet mud, brownish puddles of water in her still swimming vision rippling as small drops of a hazy rain landed upon them. _Great_.

She coughed, suddenly feeling the cold water that had trickled into her lungs, the icy liquid burning within her chest. _Just_ _great_.

Getting up was harder then she'd thought, the wet mud _clung_ to her, _pulling_ her down, as if it was some living thing desiring to swallow her whole. Velanna had to grudgingly admit part of the problem was her feeling awfully weary as well, maintaining the concentration of her work in the fade had _drained_ her...

Pushing down with her arms she finally freed herself from the clammy mud, gasping slightly at the sensation of the cold air against her freed body. Leaning back she came to rest upon her haunches and _pulled_, freeing her staff from the mud as well, momentarily clutching it to her chest, feeling the reality of the wood against her, steadying herself.

"Great..." She murmured the word, feeling a headache sneaking up on her. A quick reach to her belt and she put a tiny flask of lyrium to her lips.

_Tingly_...For a moment Velanna didn't feel the rain lightly patter against her skin, her nerves feeling as if a small bolt of lightning was coursing through her.

It was over all too soon.

But the headache was _gone_, her weariness _gone_, her mind _clear_.

She put the butt of her staff against the mud and _pushed_, her legs struggling for a moment, still asleep after their imprisonment in the fade...yet she came to her feet, swaying slightly before steadying herself.

Turning she found the others struggling to get up as well. Sigrun and Lynn were already on their feet, the Commander with her helmet on, head bowed for some reason, the dwarf jumping slightly where she stood, taking deep breaths, clearly enjoying the clear and _real_ air. Mhairi on the other hand was still on one knee, her hand resting on her drawn sword as she struggled to get up, the woman looking awfully dizzy as she swayed from side to side.

A grunt and Nathaniel stood beside her, his armour and face covered in mud that even as she watched was being washed away by the drizzle. His eyes were weary, but he stood straight, though only professional sentimentality for his weapon seemed to keep him from resting against his bow that he so carefully held above the muddy ground with his right hand.

He inclined his head ever so slightly to look down at her, a careful smile on his lips. "Are you..._well_?"

There was more in that question then was being spoken.

Velanna smiled back, what weariness remaining in her disappearing, replaced by fresh vigour. "I am _well_..." She arched an eyebrow at the man, smirking slightly. "..._you_?"

"_Very_ well..." The man replied, voice low as he inched _closer_.

Velanna's eyebrow remained raised, her smirk enduring even as she felt her breath hitch, she found her voice shaking: "S-ser?"

Nathaniel's sudden smirk matched her own as his free hand moved down, finding her chin, then jaw...and finally her hair. "...my lady." It was a _whisper_, sending a shiver down Velanna's spine even as she let him tilt her head back.

Her eyes closed...

Her lips carefully parted...

Warm breath brushed against her mouth...

"Wh-what is this?"

Velanna groaned in frustration even as she inwardly grinned at the muttered curse escaping Nathaniel as the two parted before they could close. A quick glance told her Nathaniel's face was flushed, as much as her own she suspected, though she found herself not minding, only smiling as she forced herself to focus.

It _wasn't_ easy.

The moving corpse helped though.

Jumping back with an oath Velanna raised her staff, watching the body they had found before the mansion jerk as it struggled to rise. The others had jumped back as well, unanimously drawing their weapons into readiness, all but Lynn...who watched the rising creature through the slits of her helmet with an uncaring borne out of weariness.

The creature came to its feet.

Yet Velanna held back, as did the others. There was something..._odd_ about how it moved. Its movements were too _jerky_, too _uncertain_, as if it didn't know _how_ to properly move. Everyone in the group had faced undead after all. At times Velanna couldn't help but wonder if the darkspawn kept them as pets, or perhaps as a moving food-supply...but she ignored such thoughts...the important part was that the undead so far had all moved _smoothly_, with an innate knowledge of their animated husks.

This one was not so. Perhaps it was simply that the body was so fresh, or that it had _just_ been awoken...but Velanna found herself _fascinated_ rather then revolted or threatened as she watched the leg of the creature kick out against nothing while it struggled to steady itself. The gaunt face jerked left and right, pale eyes staring at the surroundings with a mix of confusion and...fear?

_It doesn't understand_. Velanna frowned, confused.

Lynn was apparently equally confused as she cocked her head to the side while regarding the undead creature. "Kristoff?" Her voice actually held a _shred_ of interest, though fading.

The creature jerked, blinked, eyes darting to regard the elf before him, as if only now realising it wasn't alone. "Y-_no_..." A gasp, uttered from dried lips, the creature taking a step back, gauntleted hands coming up to touch torn cheeks. "Kristoff..." It shook its head. "No...I...he's..._me_..." It shook its head, _violently_. "This is...wrong!" Even more, _harder_. "Wrong!"

"Who _are_ you?" Lynn's voice held a tiny mote of a threat.

The creature's head jerked up to regard the elf once more, if due to the question or the unspoken threat Velanna couldn't tell. "I am..." It grimaced. "..._Justice_." _What!_? "This is..." It looked about, eyes wide, mouth twisting into a grimace of disgust. "I'm..._not_ a demon...yet I'm _here_..." A growl. "She has _trapped_ me here _against_ my will, in this..._dead_ man..." The growl grew in volume, the creature's hands balling into fists as the wide eyes narrowed into fury. "She has _desecrated_ a dead man's flesh and committed an _atrocity_ against myself! Does her cruelty know _no_ bounds!"

"An abomination." Mhairi growled, taking a step forth, her sword levelled at the creature.

The creature turned its head, _glaring_ at the woman...and she took a step back. "Do _not_ call me _that_ mortal. I am a _victim_, as is the flesh of this _poor_ man." The anger seemed to calm the creature, its back straightening, the worried crease on its face replaced by a snarl of righteousness. "But Justice _will_ prevail! I will find the foul woman who did this and bring _judgement_ upon her! If it so takes me an _eternity_!"

"You will _not_ have to wait an eternity." The familiar voice made them all whirl about, just in time to find the gate to the wall of the mansion swing open, only to crash to the ground as the rusty hinges broke.

And before them the baroness stood, proud and haughty...and in the _flesh_.

_That doesn't_..._she was in the fade_..._how did she_...? Velanna licked her lips. Whatever magic had been at work it had been _powerful_...and that meant _dangerous_.

Sigrun chuckled: "Oh goodie, I've been itching to kill something."

Next to her Mhairi grunted in agreement, teeth bared into a snarl.

The baroness ignored them all, calm eyes focused on the creature calling itself Justice. "Here I am spirit, and there you are, a bit early for my plans...but I don't mind." She took a deep breath, gaze darting to the dark surroundings, a smile on her lips. "It is _good_ to be back...I will of course have to get new servants as well." The eyes turned wicked as they focused on the small group before her: "You will do."

"_I_ am the lord of these lands." Lynn replied evenly, her weapons all of a sudden in her hands as she crouched into a fighting stance. "We have enough problems here without a delusional demon running about."

"Demon?" The baroness grinned, her lips suddenly far _too_ wide for her head, her voice _turning_ low and rumbling. _Demon_... "Why yes I _am_ a demon by now...you'd be wise stand aside."

"Bet _that'll_ happen." Sigrun snorted, drawing a chuckle out of Nathaniel.

Justice took a step forth though, placing himself between the baroness and Lynn as he jabbed a gauntleted finger in the demon's direction: "You will _not_ prey upon any more _innocent_!" Velanna almost snorted. _Innocent_ _indeed_... "_No_ more servants, _no_ more cruelty, no more _injustice_!" He growled the last, hand moving to free a shield with the warden's heraldry from its back. "Tell me where the villagers are and I will make your end _swift_! A mercy you do _not_ deserve!"

"Still the concern for those pitiful shredded remains that is their souls?" The baroness scoffed, her arms _distending_...her back becoming hunched even as she _grew_...voice _dark_...skin mottling and turning black. "Then _come_, help them."

There was a shuffle behind them, making the group whirl about, finding the debris and broken ruins shift as smashed skeletons reformed, bones cracking into place even as they pushed themselves to their feet, dark sockets regarding the group with unreal hatred. _The_ _villagers_...Velanna found her throat turning dry.

"**Save** **them**."

Velanna once more whirled about...and found herself taking a step back in fright at the sight.

The baroness was _gone_, in her stead stood a massive monster, black as the sky above, completely covered in matt scales its bulk dwarfed even that of an ogre. Its arms were thick and ended in five black claws, _almost_ like that of a human hand...yet very much _not _so. Three eyes on each side of its dragon-like skull, a seventh in the centre of its forehead, all glowing with a pale green light. Beneath them its snout opened into a two sets of thick rows of white fangs, reminding Velanna of a wolf.

_Pride_ _demon_...She swallowed, in the fade one thing was certain for any mage, you _avoided_ pride demons at all costs. Yet now she stood in front of it, so close that a mere dozen steps would carry her to it...it was enough to make her shake.

"**Save your precious villagers**." Velanna found her chest shaking with the volume of the creature's voice, the mocking tone tearing at her, making her shiver.

Hisses...and the skeletons reached down, pulling up pitchforks, broken hatchets, clubs and even old hoes...before advancing upon the stunned group.

_Surrounded_. Velanna's head whipped left and right, unsure what to do. Her instructions as a mage told her to run, her heart to fight, her duty...she wasn't sure.

Lynn made the choice for her: "Velanna, Nathaniel, Sigrun and Mhairi, take on the skeletons."

Nathaniel's bow instantly answered the order, an arrow smashing into the neck of the closest skeleton in an explosion of bone, its head dropping off a moment later.

"Justice-" The beginning of an order was swept away by the defiant roar of the corpse-spirit as it launched itself at the pride demon.

A crash and the demon's fist smashed into the raised shield of Justice, but even though the creature's back bent in an unnatural angle at the force of the impact he continued the charge, his drawn sword smashing into the leg of the pride demon in an explosion of purple ichor, drawing a chuckle out of it.

Lynn was right behind Justice though, blade and axe nearly _singing_ as they cleaved through air and scales when the elf spun mid-flight, both weapons ripping into the right shoulder of the demon and spraying the elf with even more ichor as she deftly landed behind it, moving as if the plate armour she wore weighted nothing at all. _Still can't believe it_...

"Velanna!" Nathaniel's bark forced her back to her own fight though, the Dalish growling in defiance as she _focused_, hated, channelled..._rage_.

Fire flowed from her fingertips, _hot_ and _hateful_ as it engulfed three skeletons almost on top of her. The closest instantly dropped its hatchet, the heat turning the creature into ash within moments. The second stumbled, then fell, its empty eyes sockets burning even as its limbs crumpled into stumps. The third continued, shoulders and head still afire, its levelled pitchfork dropping lower and lower even as it came at her...

Velanna stepped to the side and watched the skeleton blindly stumble past her, the pitchfork slamming into the mud and stopping its charge as its body thundered into the stuck weapon, shattering the already weakened bones into scorched slivers.

Ahead of her Mhairi steadily broke her enemies apart. Her shield tore the head off from a skeleton, her following backhanded swing with her sword tearing a second one in two by the spine. A third slammed its club into her shoulder, only for the weapon to bounce off before she slammed her shield into its knee and then chest.

A moment later it broke apart.

Sigrun was nothing but a heedless charge. Laughing, the dwarf slammed her helmeted head into the chest of a skeleton, shattering its ribcage and making it stumble back...only for it to fall as the dwarf crushed its right knee with a brutal stomp of her foot. A second one fell with a clatter, both its arms cut apart by twin axes.

Velanna wanted to throw a fireball to support them, but the two women were too far ahead, she would hit them, instead she channelled _disdain_, _disgust_..._order_. A raised staff and cold enveloped one of the skeletons closing in on Sigrun, slowing its movements and making it easy prey to a casual swing from the dwarf.

And behind them the demon roared, half in pain, half laughing, making Velanna cringe. _I can't even look back_... She jabbed her staff forth, _hard,_ _forceful_. The arch of lightning swept past Sigrun as the dwarf spun atop a felled skeleton, her swinging foot crushing the face of another skeleton and sweeping axes tearing the chest of a third one apart...while a fourth exploded with the force of Velanna's spell striking it.

All the while Nathaniel's bow spoke death.

Atop a small boulder the man's gaze was steady as he stood straight and sent arrow after arrow into creatures struggling to reach the main battle, felling skeleton after skeleton as they climbed and pushed their way through the broken ruins from whence they had come. _He_ _looks_ _so_..._calm_..._calculating_..._steady_. Velanna smiled at the sight, despite the fighting around her.

Even as she watched the man changed his aim to where Mhairi stood, the woman's elbow caving in the skull of a skeleton trying to sneak up behind her as she shifted her shield to let a thrusting rusty sword miss it. The sword missed her body as well, instead hitting nothing but air beneath the woman's armpit...and was instantly trapped as Mhairi clamped her arm down on it. A moment later she smashed her blade into the chest of the skeleton and ripped her shield-arm back, crushing its ribcage even as she ripped its arm off.

She didn't even notice the arrow whizzing past her head and into the eye socket of another skeleton charging at her, the creature's neck giving way with a dry crack as it fell onto its back, never to get up.

_No_!

Velanna thought the thought even before she had fully registered the skeleton breaking through the ruins to Nathaniel's left, its pitchfork levelled like a spear as it charged...at the man who with a concentrated frown aimed down his arrow at something ahead of the still fighting Mhairi.

"_Nathaniel_!" She _ran_, moving her staff in beginning of a spell, only to realise the man was in the way..._and_ that she had suddenly _forgotten_ every spell she knew!

He didn't react, eyes narrowing...then relaxing as he released his arrow, the missile thudding into something with a crash Velanna was only half aware of.

And Velanna _ran_.

The skeleton rushed forth even as Nathaniel turned, his bow swinging in a desperate attempt to shield himself.

Velanna was faster, sweeping past the man she swung her staff close to her body in a parry, forcing the thrusting pitchfork down and to the si-

_Pain_!

She gasped, her leg suddenly afire as the pitchfork drew a wound across the outer side of her left thigh.

Her staff moved back-

_Pain_!

Her head snapped to the right, her vision swimming as she felt the hard impact of bone against her temple.

_No_...

She pushed forward, trying to force the creature back away from her.

It didn't budge.

_Have_ _to-_

_Pain_!

She grunted, her head snapping to the left, white lights flashing before her vision.

_Just a moment and he'll_-

A scream, hers or Nathaniel's she couldn't tell, all was so..._distant_...

_Pain_!

Her stomach burning, her head swimming, fire running down her forehead...

She fell.

The fire, gone.

Cold.

_No_ _pain_...?

Darkness.

Everything falling.

Everything spinning.

Everything fading.

And a distant light...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for stomaching me. _


	35. Chapter 35

"You're an idiot."

Nathaniel's face was grim.

His lips a thin line.

His forehead creased in angry frown.

Eyes narrowed.

Velanna loved it.

"Sorry." She muttered the word, she didn't know _how_ many times she had said it by now, and not _once_ had she managed to actually _sound_ sorry.

The group were exhausted from the day's march, a day spent avoiding literally _hordes_ of darkspawn. Every one of them had felt it, the worry, there were enough of the monsters to even outnumber the Amaranthine _peasants_, never mind its defenders. They _had_ to get back to the keep, _had_ to organise the defence, _had_ to prepare for an attack that was without a doubt imminent.

All of that was distant though, far from her mind.

As was the fact that Justice apparently was tagging along. Perhaps simply due to not knowing where else to go, or due to the memories of the dead Kristoff the spirit claimed to sense...or perhaps simply due to a simmering anger at the very mention of the darkspawn._ What had he called them again_?_ 'Oppressors of the weak'_? '_Unjust beasts'_? She shrugged. _Probably both, who cares_?

Not she, not with Nathaniel so close. The man was worried, angry, upset...but mostly _worried_, even if he didn't realise it.

Velanna loved it.

With Sigrun out patrolling in a wide perimeter around the camp, Lynn and Justice stuck in _another_ of their long-winded conversation at the main part of the camp a hill away and Mhairi off polishing her sword for the battle that had yet to come the pair was alone. _Alone_...Velanna took a shuddering breath, yet smiled, content to wait, to enjoy the _moment_.

Sitting upright in the grass Velanna kept her legs enough apart for Nathaniel to kneel down in between her legs, his gaze fixed on her outer left thigh, where the bandage in his hand was pressed against the flesh wound pressed down just a little too much. If he found the situation even the _least_ erotic he didn't show it, _she_ however...smirked.

The man pressed down even harder on her wound, making her wince. Nathaniel simply shook his head, refusing to look her in the eyes as he continued to grumble. "You didn't cast a spell...you _charged_ it...idiot." _How many times has he said that now_? Velanna stifled a giggle. _Five_...

"Sorry."

"I would have parried the blow, I _know_ how to fight in close combat you know...in contrast to _you_." His lips somehow became an even thinner line as he glared at her wound behind the bandage. "And even _if _ I hadn't I wear _armour_, you _don't_. I would have _survived_ even a direct hit, you _wouldn't_." A shake of his head, short and angry. "Idiot."

"Sorry." Velanna took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp evening air, smiling, content to wait him out. Not that he had showed any sign of stopping berating her for the last two days...

"And what if I had gotten seriously injured?" Nathaniel shook his head again, breathing hard through his nose, trying to calm himself...and failing. His _calm_ failing, his _neutrality_ failing, his _control_ failing...and Velanna watching it with a mix of fascination and adoration._ I'm the cause of this_..._I know it's horrible_..._but Gods I love to see it_! "You could have _healed_ me, all would have been _fine_."

"Sorry." She murmured the word, feeling more relaxed than in ages as she reached back and freed her hair, the somewhat damp hair tickling her shoulder blades. _Should let it free more often, he'd probably like it_.

Not that Nathaniel noticed, his eyes still _fixed_ upon the little scratch that was the wound in her leg, as if willing it to disappear. "But you can't heal _yourself_ if you're badly injured, what would have happened if it had been worse then it had been? You'd be _dead_ that's what." He growled the words, yet they lacked the impact they had the first three times, by now Velanna understood he spoke them more out of guilt then any real anger. "You're _lucky_ you got away so easily!"

"Sorry." Velanna smiled widely. There was no need to point out that she could easily heal the little nick over her leg just as easily as she had healed the bump on her head and the wound across her belly. Nathaniel didn't seem to understand it, or perhaps simply _choosing_ to forget about it, _needing_ to take care of her.

And who was she to stop him?

The smile turned into a grin.

"Why?" Nathaniel growled the question, for the _fifth_ time by Velanna's count. "Why would you risk yourself so..._stupidly_!" He finally looked away from the bandage, only to glare down at the small piece of ground between the two of them. "It was foolish, idiotic, unthinking and...and..._illogical_!" He hissed the last word, his shoulders shaking.

"Nathaniel..." Velanna nearly whispered the word. _Enough, he's hurting now_..._it's_ _not_ _fun_ _any more_. A trickle of magic...and the wound across her thigh closed.

It didn't help, Nathaniel felt the change under the bandage and let the white cloth and hand drop...the hand coming to rest on the ground as he leant forward. Not to be closer to her though, only so he could look far away with his teeth bared in a grimace. "I...you're an idiot...I should have..." He swallowed, a look of pain crossing his face, his calm..._shattered_.

Velanna found her chest aching.

"_Nathaniel_..." She spoke the name with more force this time, her left hand reaching up to rest upon the wrist of Nathaniel's hand that so recently had held her bandage, the right coming to rest upon his shoulder.

"Foolish..." He shook his head, chest shuddering as he took a deep breath, still refusing to look at her. "...I didn't want you to...perhaps the Commander was right...I...you would never have-"

The hand on his shoulder shot up, finding Nathaniel's cheek, forcing his head to turn, forced him to _look_ at her. "Nathaniel." She repeated the word, _snapped_ it at him, making him blink, the guilt in his eyes lifting like a fog as he found her eyes looking back._ I'd __never__ regret it_.

His mouth opened to speak, but no words came, his mouth working soundlessly as he tried to protest, or perhaps to admonish her. Yet _nothing_ came...his eyes not leaving hers, making the guilt and worry in his waver, soothing the strain within him.

She moved the hand holding his wrist.

Without the bandage in-between she _felt_ his callused hand, it was rough and hard against her now healed wound.

The moment lingered.

Nathaniel didn't look away, something behind his eyes _shifting_.

Velanna felt her own prickling as she stared into his, feeling fear, want, _need_.

_Please_..._I_ _didn't_ _meant_ _to_ _hurt_ _you_..._and the Commander is wrong, there_ _are_ _darkspawn_ _everywhere_, _we_ _could_..._I don't want to never have had_..._you_..._please_...

Nathaniel's hand slid upwards.

Velanna shuddered.

His lips found hers, gently, carefully, a nibble that made her hiss in delight even as she struggled to get close. Finding her position too awkward to take the initiative her hiss turned to one of frustration, drawing a muffled chuckle out of Nathaniel even as his other hand came forth, matching the first in its exploration...

...and then joined it in going further up, under the back of her robe...

"Ah!" Velanna gasp was muffled against Nathaniel's lips. The hand on his face moved to wrap itself around his neck, pulling him closer even as the one on his hand moved up over his shirt-clad arm, the muscles beneath flexed at her touch, a flexing carrying through to his hand...drawing a mewl she didn't knew herself capable out Velanna.

Then he pulled her closer.

Velanna nearly cried out as she fell backwards, then found Nathaniel's weight landing atop her an instant later.

He was _heavy_.

His weight _drove_ the air out of her lungs.

And Velanna gasped in equal need of air as of pleasure.

His _warmth_, his _smell_, his _closeness_...his cheer _presence_ against her...

Velanna felt dizzy.

Both her arms were around his neck, her legs around his waist, _clinging_ to him for dear life as warm lips again and again dipped onto her neck, a nearly _searing_ heat suddenly resting against her stomach.

"_Please_..." She gasped the word through gritted teeth, her vision swimming, feeling herself completely overtaken, dominated...and surprisingly not minding it one bit.

Nathaniel didn't answer, his hands _tearing_ at her robe, _ripping_ it open, making her _gasp_ at the cool air striking her skin, then _again_ as _his_ came to rest against it.

She shuddered, her head lolling back, gritting her teeth for all she was worth in an effort not to cry out. "..._hurry_!"

Nathaniel obeyed.

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Mhairi put a hand on Lynn's shoulder just in time.

It was an odd mix of envy, grief and happiness coursing through her, _driving_ her, but Mhairi didn't let go of the elf's shoulder as the Commander surprisingly weakly tried to tug free.

"I should..." The Commander's words were but a hiss, her eyes narrowed with an anger she truly didn't feel as she glared out from her hiding-place in the forest.

Glaring at _them_.

Mhairi shook her head, slowly, hoping her calm would transfer to the elf. "No...you should not."

"It's..." The elf lowered her face, her eyes screwing shut as a tense shudder ran through her, the woman as tense as a spring. "...not right..."

Ahead of them a distant gasp reached them.

"It is..." Mhairi sighed and looked over at the pair, at their faces, finding their eyes closed, their eyes were aglow with bliss though...and it stung Mhairi's heart.

She welcomed it.

"Let them have the moment Commander, please...they might not..." She couldn't finish the sentence and looked away. _Oh Anders you noble fool_...

Under her hand Lynn was shaking, her tone hard and dead, _yet_... "Precisely why they shouldn't..." The shaking grew. "...if...if..." The tone shifted, softened, _shook_.

The elf lowered her head in defeat, her hands hanging limply by her sides, all strength gone out of her all of a sudden.

Mhairi felt a lump in her throat but still managed a pale smile as she murmured: "You're doing right...let them have a _chance_..."

Another gasp ahead, making Mhairi look up and finding the pair's eyes opening, staring into one another as they moved together.

_Maker_..._I_ _miss_ _him_...

"B-but if..." Lynn couldn't finish the sentence, her head still low.

Mhairi moved to hold the elf by the shoulders, helping her turn around, to _walk_ _away_.

Behind them they heard it, a mere murmur: "I love you..."

And Lynn began to weep.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for handling this with her usual grace._


	36. Chapter 36

There had been no time to enjoy the afterglow of their new-found intimacy.

Nathaniel had, somewhat brusquely, been ordered to scout ahead of the group by Lynn the next morning, forcing him away from the woman he wanted nothing but to linger with, if only for a few more hours.

He had quickly shoved such desires aside however, the order had been _needed_...and during the day he'd felt a growing sense of panic among the group as well as himself.

The darkspawn were _everywhere_.

_Hordes_ of them, thousands brazenly marching across the fields of Amaranthine, burning every hamlet and cottage in sight, slaying anyone and _anything_ too slow to get out of their way. And they were _gathering_, the already great hordes flowing into one another as they destroyed all in their path, forming masses of writhing dark flesh and even darker steel intent on rending apart whatever little remained within the land.

Nathaniel had found himself struggling to guide the others safely through it all.

Two times had they been forced to fight smaller contingents of darkspawn, smaller meaning numbering a full five dozen. That they had even _won_ both times was a miracle on its own...as was the fact that the darkspawn hadn't caught them with anything larger.

After the second battle they had all felt it, a force of two hundred darkspawn turning as one, racing to find the wardens that had slain their kin.

It had been a close call, at a time Nathaniel had even seen the darkspawn in the horizon, a dark writhing mass intent on their destruction.

It had taken them four hours to outstrip the darkspawn, and only the fact that they'd been through much as of late had kept them from falling from exhaustion.

As it was the entire group merely struggled for breath, Justice and Lynn the exception, as they spotted Vigil's Keep in the distance.

No order was given, but the entire group broke into a jog.

_How many men do we have_? _Five hundred in the keep_..._the nobles have maybe four thousand in total but will be busy with their own battles unless they can reach us_..._which is doubtful_. _The city militia of Amaranthine numbers two hundred or so_..._we could also round up some peasants no doubt_...

Nathaniel grimaced as he jogged, only dimly aware of Velanna suddenly jogging next to him, eyeing him with concern.

_And the darkspawn numbers tens of thousands_.

He glanced over at Velanna, finding the elf's hair freed and dishevelled as it swayed with her movements. If he had had the time he would have run his fingers through it, enjoyed the pure _affection_ running from his heart to his limbs like a warm wave. Instead all he could do was offer her a small smile, with her echoing it with a worried one of her own. She _saw_ his worry...what his calculations told him of their odds...and _that_, rather then the darkspawn, worried her.

Nathaniel forced his smile to become a little more genuine. _We are strong in a way they aren't, we __can__ win_. He surprised even _himself_ by _believing_ it.

Velanna's pale smile turned into a grin, telling him she'd gladly prove him right, with _fire_.

_That's my girl_. Nathaniel shot her a final look of approval, his chest swelling, then forced himself to concentrate at the rapidly approaching keep.

The keep was far closer now, the warden's punishing pace having brought them close enough to see that the walls were _swarming_ with archers, many watching the small group with nervous eyes.

Then a cheer rose from the archers, finally realising that the group was the Wardens.

The portcullis to the castle opened instantly, letting the group in.

They didn't stop their jogging until they've gotten into the courtyard, only _then_ did they stop to breathe, to calm themselves.

_That_ was difficult however.

The outer courtyard was a buzz of activity, as if it was an anthill that some child had kicked open. As Nathaniel watched men came rushing out from the inner courtyard, soldiers still pulling on their armour and weapons as they hurried for their regiments, the trickle of troops forming into ragged squares orderly arranged at the edges of the field. It was the only solid thing in the place, the rest being elven servants and soldiers running around, carrying various items in their arms.

It was chaotic.

Nathaniel's gaze was firmly drawn to a group away from the rest of the regiments however, eyebrow raised even as he felt some relief. _Fifty_ _knights_.

The men weren't formed up in any way, many of them busy caring for their horses that were still covered with a sheen of sweat from a heavy ride. The horses were large and muscled, mostly covered in a plated caparisons of silverite and with eyes calm despite the chaos surrounding them. _Fifty warhorses in heavy armour, a fortune_.

"Seems Anora came through for us." Mhairi breathed somewhere to his right, sounding relieved. "I knew she would."

Nathaniel shrugged, having not been privy to any such talks. Yet he _had_ heard about the new Denerim knights founded by Anora following the blight...and now eyed them with a mixture of dry amusement and wariness, feeling the change of the wind. _If Ferelden survives_..._she_ _will_ _not_ _be_ _the_ _Ferelden_ _I_ _once_ _left_.

The Mabari hounds staying close to the knights were definitely Fereldian, as was the heraldry painted on the shields of the knights, two hounds standing guard over a white and yellow shield. _The heraldry of Ferelden, __not__ the arling of Denerim_..._knights of the __crown__, no lord, nothing more_. Nathaniel knew it to be significant.

Armoured in heavy plate armour of silverite and not only having swords strapped to their sides but also having lances nailed into the ground the knights could have easily been confused with Orlesian chevaliers. _And the similarity is not only skin deep_...

Nathaniel was, as many with their ear to the ground, aware of the queen's desire to centralise the government. Officially to make the country more safe, but only a _fool_ would believe the official story. The knights of Denerim was just another nail in the coffin of the noble's independence, they could pursue and destroy any darkspawn or other kind of raid, they _only_ answered to the crown, and they were equipped in a manner only the Ferelden royalty could afford.

If the force grew the nobility would become obsolete as guardians of the land, and once _that_ happened...they would be weakened beyond measure.

But who would complain? Who could say that the knights weren't needed when the land was still being rent by warfare? Where fear of the still lingering darkspawn was everywhere? Where Anora's rule had only been strengthened every day, where she didn't even have to suppress noble's rebellions since her subjects would do it for her in a frenzy of bloodlust in an attempt to avert her vengeful gaze?

_A hundred years of Orlesian occupation couldn't change us, yet now __fear__ turns us into an imitation of Orlais_... Nathaniel almost laughed at it, at Anora's cleverness, but chose not to, thjere was nothing to laugh about.

_Still, they will come in handy_.

As he watched one of the knights, a burly bald man with a somewhat round face, detached himself to head for the group and headed for Lynn. He had the look of a dockworker about him, reminding Nathaniel of Anora's growing preference of raising commoners to knighthood. _Another clever nail in the coffin of the nobles, the commoners adore such things while the knighted ones becomes dependent on her appreciation_..._and_ _loyal onto death_.

He also spotted the seneschal approaching, face revealing his worry far too well. _Damn man, you have men around you watching_...Nathaniel shot the soldiers around them a glance, feeling their worried eyes upon the group, hoping a miracle, fearing the order that must come.

The knight reached Lynn first, assuming her to be the leader despite the elf still wearing her helmet, her stance stiff, tense. Next to her Justice stood, earning him a confused glance from the knight. The undead man had been wise enough to keep his helmet on, but that did nothing to stop the _smell_ of him from lingering in the air...but with a frown the knight shrugged and turned to the Commander, there were more important things to focus on. "Commander, I am ser Parth of the Ferelden knights, her ladyship the queen sends her regards and hopes-"

"Spare me the pleasantries." Lynn snapped, eliciting a relaxed grin from the knight, confirming Nathaniel's suspicion of his origin, a _real_ knight would have been offended, a rough man like the one before them however...would just be glad to get such things over and done with. "I see you all arrived, despite the darkspawn."

"Yes, it was difficult, but we did it." The man shrugged with a small grunt. "We could have engaged some of them _but_...I thought it better to report here." He eyed Lynn warily, unsure.

"Good." Lynn nodded, making the large oaf of a knight relax, obviously not completely used to his powerful role yet. "Are you ready to ride?"

"Give the word." The man nodded in turn, a nearly feral grin appearing on his lips, it was the grin of a man relishing violence. "We'll crush these things beneath our hooves at your command."

Then the seneschal was next to the knight, licking his lips as he muttered: "Commander...I bring ill tidings, the darkspawn are on the march."

"_That_ much is obvious." Ser Parth snorted in derision, then shirked away ever so slightly when the seneschal shot him a glare, a glare Nathaniel _knew_ had made many a new recruit whimper in fright. "Erm...ser."

The seneschal kept glaring though, obviously finding such a rough man in such a position of honour disquieting as well as irritating, Nathaniel had to agree. But the man finally shrugged, there was nothing he could do, and turned to Lynn. "Commander, some peasants and two lords with badly worn down entourages has already arrived, speaking of large forces of darkspawn scouring the countryside..."

Lynn didn't answer, the elf shifting where she stood, watching the seneschal, knowing there was more to come.

The man took a deep, shuddering breath. "Their main force is headed for Amaranthine though."

Nathaniel shivered. He _had_ expected it, he had even _known_ it...yet to _hear_ it... _Delilah, I hope you got out in time_...it was a vain hope, why would she leave when she thought herself the safest behind her city wall and the militia guarding it?

He shot Velanna a glance, finding the elf glaring at him, _daring_ him to despair.

It made him smile in recollection. _Never lose hope_...he offered her a nod and a smile.

"Maker!" Mhairi breathed, the woman's voice shaking. "Not again...we have to get after them, stop them!"

"_Again_..." Lynn's voice was but a whisper, barely audible for anyone save those closest to her, Nathaniel and Velanna exchanged a worried glance.

The entire day the elf had been...quiet...more so then usual. And there was a certain stiffness in her stance, not out of pain or pride, rather it seemed as if she held her back so straight out of a fear what would happen if she _stopped_...it was worrying.

Nathaniel didn't want to know why the elf kept her helmet on, or rather, he did but didn't want to think about it. It was all but a shell...and all that kept the woman standing.

The elf cocked her head to the side, then turned it, looking squarely at Nathaniel.

He swallowed, _knowing_. "Amaranthine is a commercial centre, without Vigil's Keep we will lose the land, Amaranthine is...expendable."

"What!" A punch, hard and fast, made him stagger, his body too numb with what he had said to really register the pain. Mhairi was in his face though, her hands around his collar as she glared at him, spittle flying from her mouth as she barked at him: "How could you _say_ that! These are _our_ people! Our duty is to protect them! We can't just _abandon_ them!"

Nathaniel felt rather then saw Velanna move, and raised his hand in a gesture, calming her as he evenly met Mhairi's glare. "I'm relaying facts, nothing more."

The glare turned into a look of panic. "No! We can't...!" She shook her head and released Nathaniel, making him take a step back to regain his balance as he felt Velanna's hand sneak into his in support, it was a small comfort however.

_Delilah_... He swallowed.

Mhairi swung around, staring at Lynn, the woman looking ready to fall to her knees before her Commander as she exclaimed: "_Please_! We cannot stay here and do _nothing_! Our _duty_..." She shook her head, unable to continue as she visibly swayed where she stood. _Our duty is to make the hard choices_. Nathaniel glumly thought with a sigh. _Delilah_... Mhairi visibly shook as she muttered: "Please...we must...do..."

"And we will."

_Huh_!

Nathaniel nearly jumped at the words, blinking he looked up, _stared_ at the Commander in disbelief, as were the others, stunned by the firmness of the three words.

The Commander seemed not to notice though, the amber eyes shining through the slits of her visor as she took a slow step towards Mhairi, the woman's face alight with fresh hope. "Let us stop them, let us..." The Commander reached for the other woman's hands, then thought better of it and let hers drop back at her sides. "...do it right..." She looked away, her voice a whisper: "..._this_ time..."

Nathaniel found himself shaking his head. Every instinct told him to agree, to rush to the aid of the city, but he _could_ _not_ ignore his intellect, his _responsibility_. "Commander, if we fail the entire arling will fall, and even _if_ we succeed but the darkspawn takes the Keep while we're gone the arling will fall. I urge you to reconsider."

"No."

The word was final, decisive, it might as well have been set in stone.

_Maker no_... Nathaniel shook his head, staring at the Commander in fear. _Why would compassion move you __now__ of all times_!

The woman looked back at him, the eyes within the visor oddly..._empty_. It wasn't the deadness he'd seen before, nor a barely contained rage, it was just..._nothing_.

He found himself shivering even as the moment dragged on.

_We're doomed_...

Then the elf turned to regard the seneschal, her words were as hard as flint, yet another shell holding her together. "You will hold the keep until we return with all the men." Nathaniel blinked. _Wait, I thought she said_..._oh Maker she can't be serious_..._well at least the __Keep__ won't fall_... "The Wardens will take the knights and head for the city." The Commander regarded the others, gaze lingering on Nathaniel's dubious expression, but saying nothing about it. She then turned to the nearest elf, a pale man whose arms were trembling under the weight of the two suits of chain he was carrying. "You there! Get us five horses, armoured if possible!"

The man stopped, struggling with the need to get the suits to their owners and the new order barked at him.

"NOW!" Lynn's bark sent him scuttling away, the two suits of armour thudding into the mud of the courtyard and drawing two angry yells from somewhere among the regiments forming up.

Nathaniel felt Velanna's hands on his shoulder, pressing down slightly, trying to tell him it was okay, that they _could_ do it. Yet he could only shake his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Riding hard he was sure the wardens and their knights could reach Amaranthine in time...but what then?

He turned his head, moving to kiss Velanna lightly on the lips, but tasted nothing but his own regret. _Fifty-six versus thousands_..._and I who just_...

Velanna's breath washed against his lips as she spoke, tone firm, an order. "_Hope_."

"Hope." He repeated, but his words lacked heat.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, because she deserves it._


	37. Chapter 37

"We're too late."

Velanna didn't answer Nathaniel's muttered conclusion, staring at the sight stretching before them with a dawning feel of horror.

Around the wardens the knights had already formed up in tight ranks from their marching column, the horses shimmering with sweat from the intense pace and the knights panting with exertion. Save that they were silent though, all staring ahead, torn with indecision, waiting for the order that could either send them hurtling down the hill...or to turn tail and retreat.

Velanna _hated_ the city, it was too cramped, too full of people, too dirty. Yet she had _never_ wished what she now saw upon it...and was far _too_ aware of how many people there was in the city...she tried to _fathom_ so many people dying, slaughtered beneath her...

She couldn't.

There was still some sunlight left, half an orange orb in the far distance, slowly retreating before the growing darkness of the sky above them. The rays of the dying light played over the large field before them, making the few trees growing among trampled fields of wheat throw long shadows across the ground.

The few buildings outside the city were mere rubble, a few still burning, the flickering flames illuminating the desperate fighting as human militiamen having taken up position between two of the larger structures struggled among piles of corpses and debris. A couple of siege engines, perhaps their own, perhaps stolen from the darkspawn, were being used by the militiamen.

Firing at point blank range into a buzzing horde of darkspawn.

Darskspawn _clawing_ at each other in the struggle to rush into and destroy the struggling defenders.

Velanna couldn't see all that well how many humans were fighting in the outskirts of the city, not many though...and the darskpawn swarming over them had to number at least a _thousand_ in numbers, a dark blot covering the road up to the gate of the city.

A gate that stood open.

There was nothing but a few struggling figures atop the city walls, a few humans vainly fighting darkspawn that came at them, not to defend the wall, but simply to survive.

For the darkspawn came at them from _within_ the city.

Already, black plumes of smoke was rising from the city where the odd building had been set afire, flickering lights of torches moved erratically across the distant streets cast the buildings in an eerie light, making the city seem unreal, as if it was really made of glass.

The sounds were the worst though.

Despite the distance from it Velanna could clearly hear the crash of steel versus steel, but mostly screams, cries of anguish and pain, of _death_. All over the city the cries echoed against the walls and houses, rising into a crescendo where every voice was just a small point of the painful wail reaching the group staring in horror.

It was as if the city itself was crying out in pain.

_An entire city_...

Atop the hill it almost felt as if Velanna could take a step forth and fall right into the city, right into the _chaos_...it was a sickening feeling, making her feel as if the blood of the slain was being splashed over her skin, making her shudder.

Shudder in shame.

"No, we're not." Lynn's growl cut through the silence that had descended upon them, punching into the shame, forcing it away.

Velanna found herself nodding. _Cries means people are alive, we can do it_...

Nathaniel sighed though, making doubt once more slither into her stomach. "Don't be-"

"We." Lynn's growl was almost animalistic, making Velanna shoot the other elf a glance. The woman's visor was down, the slits dark with a hidden rage as she stared straight ahead, focused on nothing but the city. "Are." The Commander raised her fist, making the knights at her back jerk up in readiness. "_Not_!"

A chopping gesture and the entire squadron broke into a gallop, making Nathaniel's protest disappear in the wind.

Surprised, Velanna realised she too had broken into a gallop, the human-tamed beast under her obeying her commands as she slammed her heels into its side. She didn't have time to ponder the irony of riding a beast tamed by humans, something she as a Dalish should abhor, though, her breath hitching as she felt herself _flying_ forward, the rumble of the rushing knights around her making her heart shake with the sheer _power_ behind it.

She gasped, finding the distance between them and the darkspawn horde ahead shrink with alarming rapidity.

_They're so many_...

Then she felt Nathaniel riding next to her.

Glancing at him she found the man's eyes narrowed in what almost looked like irritation, as if the impending fight was more _bothersome_ then _dangerous_. _Then again he might have been in charges such as this before_... Velanna swallowed even as she freed her staff, feeling awfully awkward upon the giant beast she rode. Neither hers or Nathaniel's horses sported the heavy caparison the knights' had, making the two outstrip the rest by a good horse's length.

Past Nathaniel she could see Sigrun, the dwarf bouncing nearly comically on her un-caparisoned horse. The woman's face was one of glee however, _bloodthirsty_ glee...and Velanna gladly turned her head to look at the others in the group.

Mhairi was nearly right next to her, despite the heavy caparison on her horse, the woman's sword raised above her head as she eyes afire with determination glared at the backs of the nearing darkspawn. Slightly behind and to the knight's right Justice rode, the undead warrior carrying a lance with the ease of the Orlesian he was inhabiting. And next to _him_...Velanna found herself looking away.

She had only seen a brief glimpse of her Commander, but it had been enough.

Lynn's sword had been drawn, the woman practically standing on her saddle as she whipped her horse with the flat of her blade, drawing blood even as spittle exploded from the horse's mouth as it was forced into a breakneck speed.

She was practically glowing with hatred.

With something close to relief Velanna turned her attention back to their target, finding the sea of darskpawn ahead get closer with such rapidity that it felt as if she was falling straight into a black ocean.

None of the darkspawn had seen them though, their frenzied eyes fixed upon their prey struggling for survival among the ruins of the buildings outside the city gates.

_Good_. Velanna gritted her teeth, her thoughts flittering to Nathaniel, to _his_ sister, then to her _own_. _Seranni_..._you_ _will_ _pay_ _for_ _this_!

The rage came, a purifying wave washing away the fear and doubt, pushing _all_ else aside.

She raised her staff, her eyes closing as she let her focus narrow into a point, the rage _flowing_ to the point...the heat emanating from the spot above her staff was searing, _painful_...and she _welcomed_ it.

Opening her eyes she prepared to hurtle her focus onwards, to send her searing rage ahead...only to see one of the darkspawn turn. With its eyes covered by a filthy rag and holding a gnarled staff of black wood there was no doubt the creature was an emissary...and she felt its unnatural gaze bore into her, meeting her hatred with that of its own.

Its mouth opened, revealing sharp fangs dripping with the blood of some slain foe, its lipless mouth moving to cry out a warning, or to throw a spell to counter the imminent attack, Velanna couldn't tell.

Then an arrow was protruding from its maw, black ichor exploding from its mouth and down its chin, its staff falling from limp fingers as its hands vainly moved to reach the missile that was nearly completely lost within its mouth.

It fell, and Velanna couldn't help but shoot Nathaniel a glance, finding the man standing in his saddle as he calmly drew a fresh arrow.

Then she stabbed her staff forth, hurling the orb of barely contained fire ahead...the glowing fire hissing as it arched through the rapidly closing gap between the two forces.

The world shook as the fireball struck the closest darkspawn in the back.

Instantly the foremost of the creatures were torn apart by the force of the explosion, burning chunks of flesh and torn steel flying in all directions.

With the darkspawn so tightly packed the fire was physically held back from the ranks before the nearest ones, but instead the shock wave of the explosion struck them without mercy, sending _dozens_ of them spinning as they were sent flying through the air like rag dolls tossed aside by a bored child.

_Wow, that was_-

"DIE!" Lynn's horse flew past Velanna's, the elf standing atop the beast clearly at the point of dying by the intense pace.

The nearest darkspawn turned, its eyes widening as in panic it swung its blade at the horse.

Lynn made no attempt to veer off, to control the charge. Instead there was a splash of blood as the horse's neck was opened up...and the elf flying high into the air even as the limp horse crushed the swinging darkspawn and then crashed into his closest allies like a rolling boulder, punching a hole into their ranks.

The elf was already drawing her axe mid-fall, spinning with surprising grace as she plunged down towards the darkspawn-

Velanna lost sight of her Commander, of _everything_, as the knights smashed into the darkspawn. Having charged straight at the hole Velanna's fireball and Lynn's suicidal rush that had punched the darkspawn crowd open, the packed ranks of the knights was a fist of steel punching into the black filth ahead of them.

Everywhere lances smashed through flesh and bone, even _steel_, as if it were paper. Flailing hooves and kicking feet sent darkspawn falling to the ground, the sheer _weight_ of the horses bowling them over and crushing hem underfoot.

Then there were swinging swords, wide slashes cutting apart heads and limbs with frightful ease, shields striking down, smashing down their opponents into the dirt.

And then the Mabari caught up, howling beasts weaving between the legs of their masters' mounts and throwing themselves at darkspawn that had yet to turn to properly face the new threat, only to be bowled over and torn apart by snapping fangs and shredding claws.

Velanna swung her staff wide, throwing out a spell of fire at the nearest darkspawn, making them howl in pain as they stumbled back, only to be crushed under the hooves of the knights as they hesitated.

Next to her Nathaniel's bow sung, three arrows hurtling out in quick succession over the heads of the nearest darkspawn, only to come down somewhere within their ranks with plumes of flickering iron dust. Sigrun was crying out, the dwarf completely hidden from Velanna's sight, though the answering cries of dying darkspawn spoke of her success.

Justice now swung his sword next to Mhairi, the two carving a bloody swath through the darkspawn through which the still charging knights poured into, breaking through the ranks of the darkspawn by sheer _momentum_.

She felt it.

A shudder.

And the darkspawn broke, their ranks dissolving into chaos as genlocks and hurlocks alike turned away, several even dropping their weapons as they turned to flee.

Their ranks were too tightly packed however, many being cut down by the knights before they could even take on step, others becoming wounded by the desperate clawing of their brethren, only to be crushed into paste under the trampling hooves of their enemies.

An ogre roared in anger, swiping at two hurlocks and sending them flying as it tried to break out of the sea of darkspawn. A second swipe was aimed at a knight, but the man swayed aside of it in his saddle even as two mabari dug their fangs into the ogre's legs, making it howl in rage...and then splutter as the knight came swinging back and thrust his sword into its chest, making black ichor pour over him even as the ogre fell back, right on top of half a dozen wailing genlocks.

"Halt! _Halt_ dammit!" Velanna blinked, and pulled her horse back, realising that the order had been cried out for some time now, without her hearing it.

It was Nathaniel who had called it out...and only now the knights obeyed, breathless but successful as they with grins hidden under their visors watched the darkspawn survivors stumble through the gate of the city that by now as awfully close.

_How long did we fight_?_ Didn't feel like more then a moment_...

Yet the sky was now darker, the shadows of the city walls close to them looming over, promising doom.

At that moment though, none of them could help but grin in defiance.

As one they turned their horses, silently watching the broken corpses covering the ground with a feeling of awe._ Three hundred slain_? Four_ hundred_? It was impossible to say. A quick glance back told Velanna that only a few of the knights were missing, no doubt hidden among the many darkspawn corpses, along with a few of their mabari.

_A small price_. Velanna grinned as she found the city militia appear from where they had mounted their desperate defence. A mere hundred in numbers, most visibly cleaved and wounded from their fight, many swaying where they stood...yet a ragged cheer broke from them as they stared at their saviours, many crying with the sudden realisation that they would live another day.

"Dismount!" Nathaniel's order called out, it was unnecessary though, most were already doing so, gingerly leading their mounts towards the militia with grins on their sweaty faces.

_Where's_-

A grunt, a heave...and a pile of darkspawn moved, fell apart.

Revealing a blood-soaked Commander.

Standing straight Lynn's armour was _covered_ in black gore and blood, her enchanted weapons sizzling as their runes burnt the darkspawn stains upon it.

She looked larger then life.

Then the moment snapped, the elf stalking over to the militia with purpose. "Who's in command here!"

The other wardens exchanged worried glances, but none the less moved to their Commander's side.

"I-I...guess I am." A man volunteered from the ranks, the man stepping out from the still panting militiamen dressed in an ill fitting suit of chainmail. He looked awfully young, his face pale and almost childish...if it hadn't been for the bleeding wound across his forehead that the man didn't even seem to notice as he managed a wavering salute. "Just a sergeant but...the others..." He made a small gesture at the carnage around them, then shrugged, too weary to explain further, and not really needing too anyway.

"What happened?" Lynn's voice was rapt, hard, dangerous.

The sergeant didn't seem to notice though, swaying where he stood he turned his head to look over at the open gate of the city, a haunted look in his eyes. "They...came from the cellars, tunnels...the walls themselves...I swear...one moment we were all staring out from behind our wall, ready to defend it...the next we hear sounds of battle _within_ the city..." He shuddered at the memory, his eyes tearing. "They came out of the walls..."

"And then what?" Nathaniel asked and took a step forth, shooting Lynn an oddly rebellious glance that the elf ignored, her gaze fixed upon the sergeant.

"We..." The man swayed again, a hand coming to his head, when he lowered it he looked at the fresh blood on his gauntlet with a near bored look in his eyes. "...tried to fight." A worn chuckle escaped him, as if it was something amusing with the idea. "There were..._more_ of them than we thought..." His eyes once more turned haunted. "We...thought it better to try our chances with the thousand _outside_ the walls then those _within_..." Another small chuckle, a hint of madness in it. "...desperate but...unfortunately...logical..." He eyed the once before him with wide eyes, his breathing shallow. "There's _thousands_ of the monsters within the city..._thousands_!"

Silence.

"Then there's nothing we can do." Nathaniel muttered, his face neutral as he eyed Lynn, waiting.

_But_..._your_ _sister_... Velanna felt tears welling up and tried to find Nathaniel's gaze, but he refused to meet hers, his eyes _fixed_ upon their Commander, _demanding_ an answer. Instead it was Mhairi that spoke, a growl of anger. "Stop saying that! We can still save some people! We can still do what's right! These are _Fereldians_! We _owe_ them our help!" She glared daggers at the man, who summarily ignored her.

"If there are several thousands in the city..." Velanna muttered in Nathaniel's support, unwilling to really voice it, pained by what it meant for him, yet aware that he was _right_...

"Dying here would be useless." Sigrun muttered, then shrugged, no smile came though, not _this_ time.. "Then again, why not? Would be interesting to give it a shot..."

Justice hesitated, then looked over at the city. "The memories of Kristoff are...conflicted at this point. As to myself...justice should be brought to these monsters, though I am unsure as to _how_...the punishment must be felt, but would slaying many here _be_ felt?"

"I can't believe you!" Mhairi snorted in disgust and shook her head, inching away from the others and towards the militiamen, her voice raised: "What say you! Shall we take back our city!"

Despite their ragged appearance, their cleaved bodies, the men raised their weapons, a worn cheer escaping them.

"No." Lynn's whisper cut through the cheer, silencing the militiamen as efficiently as a signal horn.

"_No_?" Mhairi echoed, staring at the elf in disbelief.

The elf turned away from the stare, from _everyone's _stares. "Nathaniel is right, we retreat back to the Keep..." Her voice was muffled by both facing away from them and her helmet, muffled and..._sad_.

"I..." Mhairi's mouth worked without any words escaping, the woman's face cycling between shock and a growing anger.

"Sergeant..." Lynn's voice was _small_, small and _frail_. "...have your archers and siege engines turned towards the city, burn it down, burn its attackers down..."

Shocked Velanna realised Lynn was shaking.

"_What_!" Mhairi exploded, her sword falling from limp fingers as the meaning of the words sunk in. "B-but the _people_...!"

The elf visibly trembled as she took a step away from Mhairi. "Burn them _all_...it's th-the only..." She _shook_, stiff as a board the elf shook so violently that Velanna thought she would fall. "..._do_ it..."

Velanna felt disgust swell within her, like a filthy worm slithering within her gut. _So many people_...yet she saw Nathaniel, reluctantly, nod his head in agreement...and knew she would agree to it. What else could they do? They couldn't fight, they had to leave...and if they at least set the city aflame they would kill many darkspawn. But there were the people too...

_But they're already dead_. Velanna straightened, held her chin up...and accepted the truth.

Mhairi shook her head though, fury in her eyes. "No..._no_! You can't do that! Don't you have _any_ compassion!" Lynn swayed at the words, her shaking increasing. "We're supposed to _help_ people! Not _kill_ them! I've already realised you're anything _but_ a hero! B-but this is taking it too far! This is...it's _monstrous_!"

A shudder ran through the Commander, the woman still refusing to turn and meet the other's stares. "I've always been the monster..." She trembled, shaking like a leaf, and Velanna _felt_ it...the _danger_. "...someone has to be..."

"_No_! Not acceptable!" Mhairi took a step towards the elf, eyes aflame with righteousness. "You are not _fit_ to be our Commander if _this_ is your order! You are not fit to be a Warden even! You are the Hero of Ferelden! _Act_ like it!"

"Uh...Mhairi..." Velanna muttered, eyeing the shaking Commander with worry. _She_ _can't_ _break_..._not_ _now_...

"What say you men!" Mhairi turned to the militiamen, a fist raised. "Would you commit such a crime! Or would you do what's _right_!" There were cries of agreement from the soldiers, all too willing not to destroy their own city, to slay their own citizens. Mhairi turned a hateful sneer at the Lynn's back. "See! _That's_ what's right! Now you will step aside!"

"No..." Lynn muttered, her body shaking like a sword striking stone, at the point of shattering. "_No_..."

Mhairi took another step forward, face red with rage. "You will-!"

"_NO_!" Lynn whirled about, stance low as she turned to glare at Mhairi, her drawn sword at her side, ready to fight.

Everyone took a step back, instinctive fear forcing even the undead Justice a step away from the hatred blazing from Lynn's eyes.

All but Mhairi, the woman staring at Lynn with a look of disbelief on her face.

Then blood began to trickle from her throat.

The trickle turning into a flow...

Mhairi fell to her knees, hands limply dropping to her sides.

Her head tilted...then toppled forward, a spurt of dark blood shooting out from her neck before the woman's body collapsed.

Silence.

Then Lynn took a step forward, her blazing hatred boring into the militiamen at the now dead warden's back. "You _will_ burn the city! _NOW_!"

Instantly the men scrambled to obey, not one daring to meet the elf's glare.

A glare that instantly faded as the elf's shoulders slumped in defeat. Her shaking stopped, her trembling stopped, she became _still_...her head hanging low as she looked down at the woman she'd slain.

As were the other warden's, stunned beyond word.

_She_..._killed_..._her_... Velanna _couldn't_' believe it, it was _impossible_.

Yet she had seen it with her own eyes.

It couldn't be true though, it _couldn't_.

It was like a dream as she stared at Lynn moving, the elf rousing herself with a flinch, as if awakening from a deep slumber. The Commander sheathed her weapons, her movements careful, as if afraid the weapons would suddenly shatter...her movement oddly hesitant and careful as she moved towards the slain warden's sword...

A bow came between the hand stretching out and its target however, making the Commander go still mid-movement.

Nathaniel stood before her, face a grim, but not condemning, mask as he kept the tip of his bow against the ground just between the elf's reaching hand and the fallen weapon.

_Oh Gods no_...Velanna stared in horror as the two looked at each other, one grim and resolute, the other unreadable in her expression.

They stood there, waiting, silent.

Then Nathaniel spoke, voice as grim as his face: "You do not have the right to take it."

Lynn flinched, as if struck.

Then her shoulders slumped.

Her head turned, looked away.

Then...she simply nodded, a mute acknowledgement.

She turned away, eyes upon the city as the militiamen's siege engines and bows begun to loose their missiles over the city walls, already making a bright orange glow appear from within it.

Nathaniel didn't relax as the elf walked away, he only looked..._pensive_...as he watched the elf look over at the city burning.

A small shake of his head...and the man bent down to pick up the sword, looking at it with a thoughtful frown.

_There is nothing to say_...Velanna moved past the man, offering him a light pat on the shoulder to show her support...then moved closer to Lynn. She should perhaps feel fear of closing with a woman that so easily could slay a fellow warden...but all she felt was worry... _A mad dog is dangerous_..._but_ _only_ _worth_ _of_ _sympathy_..._not_ _hatred_.

The Commander made no sign to show that she knew Velanna was there as the Dalish came to stand beside her, her eyes hidden within her closed helmet as she stood and stared at the growing fire.

Silence.

Then a whisper, grieving: "It's a funny thing..._failure_..."

And she had no answer.

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her intense corrections for this one._


	38. Chapter 38

It was unreal.

Nathaniel had a strange feeling of not being fully within his own body, as if he drifted just above it. He _could_ feel the bow in his hand, his leather armour sticking to his sweaty body, the unfamiliar weight of Mhairi's sword strapped to his waist. _Yet_...

_Exhaustion_. He sighed at the realisation, knowing there was no rest in the near future, or if there was, it was only the rest of death. _Shock_. _Grief_. _Fear_. _Worry_. Counting up what he felt didn't help, it was all distant, all...meaningless.

In a way he welcomed the distance, it made it easier to accept the situation around him for what it was without despair gripping him.

They had barely returned in time, or at all, nearly every path had been blocked by thousands of darkspawn, forcing them to ride hard and fast through the rapidly narrowing gaps in the forces massing...massing for an assault on Vigil's Keep. At times they had ridden so close to the massive forces of enemies that Nathaniel had felt the ground shake at their march, despite riding a horse. He could still feel the bruise of his right shoulder from where an arrow had grazed him, and was well aware that they had been lucky to only lose five knights to the arrows fired after them. It had been a shame that the mabari had been unable to keep up though, not to mention the militia being too slow due to a lack of mounts...

_Not that it will matter much in the battle to come, the odds are already stacked against us enough as it was, a few hounds and wounded militiamen less will make no difference_.

They wouldn't be able to hold the first wall.

As such it was more for show then anything else that Nathaniel and the hundred and eighty two peasants that had managed to flee to the keep stood at the ready upon the first wall. Sure he and Lynn had planned how to make the most of it all...but it would still not be enough. Nathaniel, with the strange distance he felt upon him, eyed the men and women arrayed upon the battlement with an inner sigh of resignation.

Only a few had been given a suit of chain or leather, the armoury in the keep having been emptied for them. Most were still in their worn tunics and trousers though, the women even in dresses, something Nathaniel only now realised he should have ordered to have them change, surely there had to have been _some_ extra clothes for them... _Will make little difference_. All of them held the bows they had received with little skill, many nervously fiddling with the strings, checking their arrows without really knowing what to look for... most were just pale statues as they stared out over the battlement however, the bows in their hands forgotten.

It was telling how few peasants had reached the Keep, and even more so that not a single noble had managed it.

Behind him the outer courtyard lay barren and empty, the ground dug up in several ditches across its length, a single ditch running across them to connect them all. Each one was easily cleared in one leap, yet when the black pitch within was lit... _Will make little impact, but at least it'll give us some breathing space_.

The ground rose sharply towards the inner walls, more so now that their soldiers had dug the hill that part of the castle sat on into something nearly vertical, topping it with sharpened stakes as an added precaution. At the top the first three hundred of the Keep's soldiers stood, bows at the ready, looking slightly more relaxed then anyone else with the defences before them. Only the main road to the gatehouse was still intact, at the bottom the last two hundred of the Keep's men stood, their ranks serried if a little ragged, their mix of impatience and worry clear in every move they made. At the forefront the others stood.

At the far right Justice stood. He had not, despite not being a warden any more or really having anything to do with the current struggle, never questioned going with them for their desperate defence of the keep. Of them all he was the only one still, a statue for all he moved. His visor was down and his sword drawn, patience made flesh, a lone calming factor among otherwise worried troops. Perhaps it was due to Lynn being convincing, perhaps him jus not really knowing where else to go...Nathaniel only knew they owed the spirit for its decision.

To the far left of the group Sigrun stood. She too had her weapons drawn, her helmet was off, revealing a toothy grin as the dwarf slowly bounced up and down where she stood, like a horse champing at its bit, eager to begin the race, or in this case, the slaughter. Nathaniel hoped she wouldn't run off in some mad charge, but knew she wouldn't, she would hold...and perhaps even inspire the troops.

_Maker knows they'll need it_.

His gaze flickered to Lynn at the thought, finding the elf in the centre. Of them all the Commander was the only one not with her weapons drawn, instead she had her arms crossed over her chest, the dark slits in her helmet glowering at the gate, as if daring it to open and let in the darkspawn horde so she could slay them. Nathaniel couldn't help but notice the way the soldiers nearest her kept their distance, how some of the peasants on the wall glanced back, as if afraid she'd cut them down if they tried to flee before Nathaniel gave the word. _Fear makes a lousy motivator in the long run though_...

There was nothing to do about it however, there was no loyalty to the Commander, no reason for the people to fight other than to survive, it would have to be enough. Though Nathaniel was painfully aware that it often _wasn't_, the urge to flee was just too great when you didn't fight for anything bigger then yourself...

He still felt a flicker of surprise when he saw Velanna stand at the Commander's side. The woman had her staff at the ready with one hand, the other resting lightly on the other elf's shoulder, as if she'd forgotten it there. He wasn't sure _why_ Velanna had chosen to be supportive of the Commander...did she knew more of the woman's suffering then he did? Did she relate better? Or did she simply realise that the woman couldn't be allowed to break just yet?

Nathaniel's mind appreciated it, it was good of Velanna to keep their Commander going. _Yet_...he found himself swallowing and looking down at his feet.

_Delilah_...a tear came, unbidden, and he blinked it away with a growl of displeasure, making the nearest peasant edge away. _No, focus, don't think about it, you have thousands of lives to protect, a land to keep from being overrun and_..._Delilah_.

He took a deep breath.

Then another one.

The grief wouldn't go away though, dragging his mind, kicking and screaming, back into his body.

He shuddered at the sensation.

_I will_... He didn't know what and glanced back at Velanna, finding the woman shooting him a shy if worried smile. _Hope_? _Yes_, _I_ _will_ _hope_ _she_ _survived_, _hid_, _left_...

The thought was hollow, without feeling. He _knew_ the odds of her surviving, _knew_ that life wasn't a fairy tale, that lives were _lost_, _uncaring_ of the pain it caused.

He knew, in his heart, that she had to be dead.

_I'm not you Velanna, I can't hope for something I don't believe in_...

He shook his head, forced himself to raise his face, face grim as he looked over the battlement.

_I can only try to keep others from suffering the same fate_.

The darkspawn had gathered.

There was a thousand feet of withering grass before the castle...and then a sea of foul blackness. It _pulled_ at him, made something within him _seethe_ with rage...yet mostly he felt a squeezing sensation around his heart.

He felt fear.

The darkspawn were beyond counting, everywhere he looked he saw genlocks and hurlocks, dirty armour and puckered black skin, filthy fangs and hateful eyes. Among them were many emissaries, blackened staffs held before them, the creatures oozing filthy magic even as they simply stood there. The alphas were easier to spot, brass points among black foulness, cruel points of malevolence among a sea of hatred. The ogres were even easier to spot, most clad in crude plates of steel directly riveted to their skin they towered above their kin, ships of brutality in the ocean of filth.

The assembled darkspawn reached the horizon.

Reached the _horizon_!

Nathaniel couldn't even picture the numbers needed to do that, yet there they were, a sea of blackness large enough to cover the ground from one end of the world to the next, making it look as if the Keep was the only bastion of order and life left in the world...it was a dismal thought, and far too real when one looked upon the naked hatred surrounding them.

The most terrifying aspect was the silence though.

Not a single bay, not a roar, nor a growl...the darkspawn were _silent_...just glaring at the defenders, glaring and _waiting_...

Nathaniel heard someone beginning to sob, none moved to comfort though, none even acknowledged the sound, their wide eyes staring at the monsters about to slaughter them.

There was only silence in answer, silence and _hatred_..._slamming_ into them, making the Keep's walls seem ready to collapse like a deck of cards.

Yet nothing happened.

In the growing darkness, as night descended upon them, Nathaniel shivered.

He would have liked nothing but to hide away, to tell himself it was all a lie, a dream conjured up by a feverish mind still in the Free Marches after a particularly vicious skirmish. He couldn't lie to himself however, he couldn't _allow_ himself to do it. _These were my family lands_..._I'll be damned if I'll be the second Howe to fail it_.

Instead he forced himself to pay attention to the darkspawn, to read their intention. For all their numbers they couldn't simply rush at the castle, or perhaps they could through climbing over their dead...but Nathaniel doubted they would. And indeed he did spot their way in the sea of terrifying death before them.

_Dozen of ladders, rams_..._they_ _intend_ _to_ _close_ _quickly_.

Nathaniel grimaced even as he nodded, however dangerous such a rush would be to him it was better then if they had sported siege towers or catapults.

_Good_.

He found one of the peasants next to him shiver like a leaf and frowned in confusion.

_What_ _the_...?

The wind was picking up, _fast_.

Looking up Nathaniel found clouds gathering, dark and threatening...and _quickly_.

_That_ _can't_...he looked back to the darkspawn ahead...and found thousands upon thousands of mouths baring their teeth in wicked grins.

Then the rain came.

Nathaniel blinked, taking a step forth in order not to be knocked over at the sudden gust of bitter cold wind smashing into his back, carrying icy water into his neck, which would have made him shiver if he wasn't already. _Maker with the rain_-

Ahead the darkspawn were _gone_.

The heavy downpour having cut down visibility to perhaps two hundred feet actually made several of the peasants draw breaths of relief, as if the creatures had somehow become further away. Nathaniel didn't even have the strength to shoot them a glare, his throat dry as he felt _it_...

_Something_...building up.

_Hatred_!

The roar of the darkspawn made the walls shake, made _Nathaniel_ shake, made the very _rain_ move towards them, as if the rage emanating from the darkspawn forced it towards the defenders.

Then he realised he himself was roaring, a bestial, blind and hateful roar, beautiful in its simplicity, terrifying with its intensity.

His mouth snapped shut.

_Why did I_...

The darkspawn were on the move, he _felt_ it.

_No_ _time_, _fight_.

Drawing an arrow Nathaniel listened. With the heavy rain and howling of the wind it was difficult to hear, but there was an unmistakable _rustling_...like dry leaves. _Armour_, _tens_ _of_ _thousands_ _of_ _armoured_ _monsters_...

Then the creatures _welled_ within sight, a dark flood of clattering creatures...they almost looked like thousands of beetles climbing over one another as they rushed across the soggy ground towards the far too close wall.

_This is bad_.

"Kill them!" Nathaniel barked the order and loosed an arrow, the missile instantly disappearing into the head of a hurlock that was equally quick trampled into nothing by its kin.

The arrows of the peasants followed, hammering into creatures that didn't even seem to try and cover themselves from the missiles.

Nathaniel didn't try to order them to fire in volleys, it would be no use, and the darkspawn made no organised attempt to cover themselves anyway. Instead he loosed arrow after arrow in rapid succession, not even bothering to aim as he dealt the steaming wave of ruined flesh and steel rolling towards them blow upon tiny blow.

It didn't matter if their missiles killed or wounded, either way the darkspawn were trampled by their unheeding kin, all of them roaring in a rage, as if the silence forced upon them now gone left them in need to express their bloodlust in some way until they reached their targets.

Then ladders were raised.

"Back! Retreat!" Nathaniel cried out the order and turned his head to find the closest peasants already obeying. Many in the distance hadn't heard though, some had already take upon themselves to flee though, either due to knowing their orders, or more probably, out of sheer terror.

A few stayed though, continued their barrage without thinking, lost in the moment.

For a moment Nathaniel hesitated, mind calculating the time to run around the wall and the time for the darkspawn to reach the top.

The conclusion was easy to make.

He turned and leapt upon the nearest set of stairs leading to the outer courtyard even as a black arrow thudded into the battlement and spun madly as it descended.

Bowing his head he kept running, feeling himself nearly slip as the stairs under his feet had turned slick with the cold rain, a whistling sound passing by him as more darkspawn arrows began to shower them, blindly fired from the creatures on the other side of the wall.

A man ahead grunted, slipped...and remained there, an arrow sticking out of his neck.

Nathaniel leapt over him, skidded, then regained control, barely aware that he had reached the ground.

Behind him a woman made to jump over the dead man, only to slip on the step above, a shriek escaped her as she spun through the air...and then stopped as she with a crunch landed neck first on the courtyard.

Nathaniel forced his head low and legged it, leaping over the ditches of pitch with barely a second thought as he tried to think.

_The rain ruined our chances for a few extra volleys and is bad for already wavering morale, peasants already in disarray and will need to be rallied, darkspawn climbing first wall_...

There was a crash behind him.

_And breaking the gate in_.

He grimaced. _Not the best of starts_.

Armour in front of him.

Skidding to a stop Nathaniel came up in front of Lynn and the others, a quick salute and he turned his head left and right to find the peasants streaming past them to the illusion of safety offered by the keep above them. "Commander, they must have induced rain, I need to go and rally the peasant archers...with your permission."

The Commander didn't even look at him, the head still looking out towards a nearly obscured gatehouse seeing...Nathaniel wasn't sure. She nodded though, voice steady, almost casual. "Go ahead, we'll hold them."

_Hold_ _them_? Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, it was part of the plan...yet... "Only for as long as needed...Commander."

This time the head turned, amber eyes within the helmet regarding him, yet not really seeing him. "For as long as needed." She repeated, uncaring, as if she was just talking about taking a stroll.

Nathaniel offered a short bow of his head, partly as an apology, partly in agreement. "Good luck Commander." He shot Velanna a look, finding the elf's hair plastered to her skin as the icy rain poured over her, to his surprise she seemed to be _enjoying_ it, a smile on her face as she looked at him. "Ve..." He caught himself as Sigrun snickered. _No_ _time_. Instead he simply offered her a warm smile and said. "Wardens."

Then he was rushing on, up, towards the open gate of the inner gatehouse.

_I once played under it as a child_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, as, hopefully, always._


	39. Chapter 39

Nathaniel waited.

Before him the peasants pressed up against the closed gate of the keep, banging and scraping at it as they howled for the few within to open it. Yet no one did, as they had been ordered.

Within the second wall of the castle the wind wasn't felt, and the rain barely even hit the courtyard due to its near horizontal descent. Even the baying of the darkspawn, a rhythmic thumping sound, was a distant thing, making it hard to believe that they already were about to climb the first wall.

Crossing his arms in front of him he frowned in distaste, letting his feelings, for once, show plainly in his face. _These are the brave Fereldians I spoke with respect of with the mercenaries in the Free Marches_? _Ten of those men would be worth more here than these cowards_. He shook his head, scolding himself._ I'm being unfair, these are just farmers_.

The howling was petering out, the peasants unable to keep up the frenzy of their panic as they made no headway.

_Still, work with what you get_...

"_Where_ are you going?" He raised his voice just enough to let it carry over the few moans drifting from the frightened people.

A few heads turned, people looking at him as if through a daze.

He kept his voice even, calm, but his eyes were narrowed. "Into the keep? And when the darkspawn enter it? What then? Will you hide under a bed?"

More heads turning, people sharing frightened glances.

"There is _nowhere_ to go." He punctuated the word with a snarl. "I tell you now, I _know_ we _can_ win this battle." His voice carried the calm of conviction weighted on fact. _A __very__ small chance, no need to say that though_. "But not if you just stand there and cower like frightened dogs."

A man, face turning scarlet with embarrassment stepped forth, large mouth opening to protest-

"_One_ chance." Nathaniel snapped, raising one finger at them to make his point. "You have one chance to try and survive, I'm not giving it to you, the _circumstances_ are, either you take it now, or you die."

He saw the man's mouth snap shut, only to find a woman next to him open hers, her face pale like a sheet.

"No, it's not fair." Nathaniel growled, feeling a growing tension as he felt the time tick on, it was only moments, but moments were _precious_ now... "It's never fair, haven't _you_ learnt that? Fereldians have endured hardship upon hardship and _never_ bowed their backs and shied away from struggling against injustices wrought upon them..." He let it hang there, let them _remember_. "...will you be the first?"

He didn't wait for them, he didn't have time, he turned, and marched for the single set of stairs leading to the inner wall. Besides, he already knew what would happen, there weren't really many options...

A scuffle and some whimpered words and he heard the peasants furtively move to follow.

_Good_.

Not paying any attention to the peasants passing him by atop the wall as they moved to their positions, careful like scolded children, Nathaniel eyed the battle before him with an eerie calm. The anger was bubbling beneath, held in check by a mixture of horror and determination.

The darkspawn were clearly visible on the first wall, despite the pouring rain. Dark monsters climbing over the battlement and streaming down its stairs, resembling animals more then men as they bound across the courtyard.

They got nowhere though, volley after volley of arrows loosed by the soldiers atop the hill the inner wall stood on, just beneath Nathaniel in fact, cutting them down before they even got halfway across the field.

"Make them count!" He barked, hoping against all logic that the peasants would at least try to follow his lead.

He found his target, a hurlock leaping over the first ditch of pitch, his arms swinging wildly as it hurled itself forward, barely in control of its own body with all the pent up hatred blinding it. It leapt over the next ditch-

And crashed back down into the ditch with a splash of dark pitch and blood as Nathaniel's arrow bored itself into its collar just above its breastplate

An instant later the bows of the peasants sang, followed by a volley of arrows from the soldiers beneath the wall.

Before them the darkspawn on the courtyard, even one on the stairs of the wall, twisted and stumbled, felled by dark missiles that had struck with surprising accuracy.

_Good_.

On and on the darkspawn came, spread out and charging as soon as they had climbed the wall, vulnerable and uncaring as they blindly rushed forth...and all dying before they even got halfway to the lines of troops at the bottom of the hill.

_Good_.

Then the gate crashed open, one of the doors flying into the courtyard by the force of the blow.

An instant later the darkspawn floods through the entrance, like dark bile being spewed over the wilting grass of the courtyard, threatening to cover it in blackness.

_My home_...

The light was sudden, a fiery explosion right at the gatehouse entrance, tearing apart the flowing bile at the mouth with the purity of fire and sending scorched flesh splattering against the walls.

Those that had managed to enter already were scythed down by arrows, Nathaniel barely aware that his own shot had felled a Genlock as he saw Velanna take a step forward, the rain striking her was _steaming_ as she spun her staff around, her chanted words distant even as they echoed against the walls with surreal force.

"Aim for the entrance!" Nathaniel's order was punctuated by another shot from his bow. At the scorched gatehouse fresh darkspawn were already pouring in, crushing the burnt and gory remains of those before them heedlessly as they charged forth.

Nathaniel's arrow smashed into the chest of the one at the head though, sending flakes of iron dust flying through the air in a silvery sparkle. A roar exploded from the entrance as it and those around it staggered to a halt, only to get pushed forward by those following as the horde stumbled forth into a tangled and chaotic mess.

A volley from two hundred archers, along with over a hundred peasant archers, spoke...

And the ground around the gatehouse was suddenly covered in corpses.

A quick glance told Nathaniel that Velanna was still at it, her arms moving quicker and quicker, the rain hitting her practically boiling off her as whatever power she gathered threatened to burst forth. _Maker don't let her do anything rash_... It was a foolish request, he knew it. He made it anyway.

Now ignored in favour of those entering through the gate the darkspawn climbing the walls charged across the field unmolested, only to be torn apart by swinging blades and crashing shields as the soldiers formed a protective fort of steel and muscles around the mage. Lynn was, not surprisingly, at the head of the group, her blades darting left and right, slaying _two_ monsters for every _one_ the others killed. _Don't rush ahead_...

But she didn't, she held the front, somehow keeping her position despite her spinning and weaving moves slaying creature after creature with something approaching casualness.

Ahead, the gatehouse was once again swarming with beasts, an ogre bashing its way forth among its smaller kin.

"VOLLEY!"

Over three hundred arrows shot out at Nathaniel's roar.

The ground became covered in blackened shafts, pins pitted into flesh and dirt as thick as grass. Black blood oozed over the ground from the dozens of darkspawn that had just fallen even as the ogre stumbled sideways. Its hide was covered in arrows, it's steps crushing two dark corpses into a bloody pulp as it blindly swept at the missiles covering its face. Then it sunk to the ground, the one missile having struck its eye having gone deep enough to reach its brain.

A small groan...and it toppled forward.

Nathaniel let himself nod in satisfaction. _A_ _good_ _shot_.

Then light descended from the sky.

"Maker's breath..." Someone muttered, Nathaniel wasn't sure it wasn't himself as he looked up, his jaw hanging slack with wonder.

The black clouds above had parted, churning as if it they were water being boiled away by the spear of white light suddenly coming down from the hint of blue above.

It came right down, thick and solid, like a massive column coming to crush anything underneath.

It struck somewhere behind the second wall, into the horde...

A ungodly wail rose as orange flames, taller than the obscuring wall itself, arched up at the edges of the scorching column of light, like splashing waves against a coastline.

The column swayed, like a tree in the wind, then veered sideways, twisting along its length as it turned and moved. And Nathaniel could do nothing but stare in wonder.

_A tornado of light_...

The yellow flames violently shot upwards with each turn of the column that was now a twisted shape of destruction, of nature taken beyond itself...

_No, of fire_...

Nathaniel found himself grinning and looked down to give Velanna what praise he could...only to find the elf held by Justice as the warrior carried her under his arms, a moment later and he realised Sigrun, nearly hidden under the elf, was carrying her by the feet. Velanna didn't protest to their help, didn't complain, she only lay there, motionless.

_Motionless_!

Nathaniel didn't realise he was holding onto the battlement with his free hand until it stopped him from falling over, his legs suddenly weak, his mind fogging up. _I should have_... He couldn't finish the thought, didn't know what he _should_ have thought...he only knew a sudden rush of guilt that made him sway even worse then before.

A man next to him fell backwards, an arrow in his shoulder, then screamed as he slipped on the slick wall, falling over the ledge and to his death.

_Dammit_...

He bit down, hard, blood filling his mouth as a molar broke, the sharp jab of pain making him straighten.

_Focus_..._assess_..._they_ _are_ _carrying_ _her_ _back_.

He nodded to himself, taking comfort from the thought, clinging to the reasoning.

_They're carrying her back_..._she_ _must_ _be_ _alive_..._she_ _must_...

He looked back down the wall, finding the pair carrying Velanna nearly at the gatehouse. Justice didn't look up, his dead eyes set on his objective. Sigrun _did_ though, with her helmet on there wasn't much of an expression to find...only blue eyes holding a soothing message in them...and a nod.

Nathaniel breathed out, his lungs deflating even as he doubled over, hand still resting on the battlement, gripping onto it, ensuring that it was all real. _I_ _should_... He turned, a step towards the stairs leading down to the courtyard, to the forge serving as a makeshift aid centre...then stopped. _No_..._I_ _shouldn't_...

Hesitation.

_She's alive, she needs rest, not me, I'm needed here_... He breathed in, realising that his lungs were hurting due to him forgetting of their need.

_Go_.

He whirled about face, bow raised in his right hand, his left finding his quiver, eyes roving the field.

The volleys were not enough, not any more, the creatures were pressing through in a rush, those that were too slow being pushed down and crushed underfoot as the darkspawn surged forth in a frenzied stampede. Atop the taken walls dozens of genlocks, who steadily grew in numbers, stood and sent whistling arrows at the soldiers before the walls. Their aim was bad, their missiles lacking force, but they were _many_...Nathaniel barely registered the scream of a bowman beneath him as the soldier fell down the steep hill.

The darkspawn were still held though, at the base of the hill, by the single road, the wall of Fereldian soldiers swung and lunged with a frenzy nearly matching that of the darkspawn, dammed up tension being released with vigour upon the monsters responsible. Lynn was still there as well, a small space cleared in front of her as her dizzying swings tore apart anything in front of her, slowly building a wall of torn flesh before her that only served to further impede the darkspawn.

There was a great roar, followed by _more_...and Nathaniel let a curse softly slip his lips as he found a dozen ogres, clad in crude steel riveted directly to their skin, gigantic and twisted images of knights wielding nothing but steel-clad fists as they punched their way towards the beleaguered defenders.

_We won't_ _hold_.

Nathaniel wet his lips, knowing the order would have to be crisp and clear, the slightest mistake and...he didn't dare to think about it. "ARCHERS!" The men below him looked up, heeding him, the men below them didn't, focused on the thrust and parry of close combat. _Good_. "Retreat!"

As one the soldiers at the steep hill moved towards the gate, eager to come behind the momentary safety the wall would give.

Nathaniel turned his attention from them, the plan had been clear, they'd be on the wall in moments, but now to save the rest... He moved his hand, finding his quiver of arrows with points wrapped in cloth and dipped in pitch. Coming down on one knee he gingerly rested his bow against the floor as he freed a piece of flint...it slipped out of his hand, clattering against the floor.

_Nerves_, _calm_...

A deep breath...and he reached down and picked up the flint, his movements felt awkward, stifled by worry for Velanna, of the battle, of _everything_...but he kept things simple and managed to light the arrow's point on his second attempt.

_A simple shot_..._quickly_ _now_!

He grabbed his bow, jumped to his feet, took aim and swiftly loosed the arrow.

With a whoosh the ditches of pitch dug across the courtyard were set on fire. It was but a pale imitation of the tornado of fire outside the castle, even now that the thing was slowly dwindling in size and ferocity. Yet they did their job, sending howling darkspawn staggering away, living torches swinging at their own kin in panic as they watched their own flesh being seared from their bones.

The ogres continued though, arrows drumming against their armoured plates as if it were nothing but rain, the fire beneath their feet simply ignored even as the armour around their ankles began to glow red.

_Damn_.

Nathaniel grit his teeth, but knew what he had to do._ They're momentarily unmolested, let them __try__ to disengage_.

"Troops! Retreat! Retreat _now_!" He didn't need to say it twice, the ranks of the soldiers broke apart as they as one turned to run up the path to the inner gatehouse. Many turned their heads to stare in fright at the ogres that, not bothered by the fire turning their smaller kin to cinders, lumbered after them, the creatures swiftly closing the distance...

_If they don't get in fast enough_...Nathaniel didn't want to give the order, but if the gatehouse fell to the ogres...if only for a while...then the keep would be lost.

Shooting the open gate an apprehensive look Nathaniel drew a fresh arrow and sighted down. _Then give them time_. Inwardly he sighed at the many arrows wasted by the peasants as they uselessly broke them against the armour of the onrushing ogres. But he _couldn't_ think about that, not about Velanna...not about _anything_ but that moving little gap...that little light, that little _reflection_ glinting out of the darkness...

The arrow hummed as it was released, crossing the rapidly closing distance in a second.

A grunt and the foremost ogre stopped, a tiny _sliver_ of ash compared to its size sticking out from the slit of its visor. It swayed, a hand half rising, as if to politely ask a question...

Then it was smashed aside, sent sprawling by those behind it as they crashed forth, breaking into a charge that rapidly grew in momentum...

_Maker_ _no_... Nathaniel turned to yell the order, to cut off the retreat for their own troops...only for a blur in the corner of his vision making him turn back to the battle.

Lynn had jumped out of the ranks of the soldiers, her armour flashing of silver through the gore covering it as she seemed to _float_ towards the charging ogres...

With the narrow path the ogres could only come up two and two, the first two had their heads bent as they ran, only to look up as they sensed the approach of the elf hurtling towards them. Lynn swept past their heads before they could raise their arms though, axe and sword swinging with her flight...and the two massive creatures stumbled off the path as they clutched at their necks, spraying dark blood over the field even as they collapsed.

Lynn landed in front and between the next two, the beasts staggering as they tried to come to a halt. Their heads turned towards the new threat even as her two arms, now crossed in front of her as she landed on one knee in the dirt...swung back out as she moved to rise...

More blood, the blades carving through steel as if it was paper. Through flesh and bone as if it were butter. Leaving sizzling blood in their wake as the two ogres fell face first into the mud, their legs nearly torn right through, their roars of pain muffled as their armoured heads sank into the wet mud.

_Spirit of death_...

Nothing else came to Nathaniel's mind as the elf leapt onto the ogre to her left of the next pair coming at her, her swiftly moving legs kicking her up from its knee as the axe in her left hand swung up in a vicious arch. With a crunch it sliced through the armour of the ogre's jaw, then sprayed blood over the elf as it cleaved through the flesh and bone underneath. Even as the dying monster stumbled back she landed upon its chest, kicking off from it as she leapt onto the next one uselessly swiping at the deft Commander.

A thrust of her sword...and the ogre howled in agony as smoke rose from within its visor, the blade momentarily disappearing within being yanked out in a fountain of blood. The blinded beast swiped at her, but the elf had already used its chest to kick herself up...spinning mid-air she landed upon the beast's head.

"They are inside now ser!" Nathaniel was jerked back into the moment by a peasant yanking at his sleeve, the man pointing at the courtyard where the soldiers, panting, turned their heads to look back from whence they ran, eyes widening in awe.

Nathaniel nodded, once. "Prepare to close the gate." Then, turning back to the field before him, he yelled: "Commander! Come back now!" He raised his hand in readiness...

She wasn't listening, her axe slamming into the side of the ogre's armoured skull, the elf yanking it and forcing the whole creature to turn, its ponderous fist catching one of those next in line in the shoulder and sending it staggering back with a growl of surprise.

"_Lynn_!"

To his surprise she jerked up at that, her head becoming cocked as she regarded the still living ogres, a mere two in number, with the dark slits of her visors.

Then she tore her axe free, slipped back against the back of the blinded ogre...and kicked out, sending herself flying up towards the path even as the blinded beast stumbled into its comrades, forcing them backwards with its confused swings.

A spin mid-air...and the Commander deftly landed on the ground, weapons already sheathed as her gaze lingered upon the ogres, the two left roaring in rage as they tore the arms off their blinded kin.

Then she turned and ran, easily entering the gatehouse before Nathaniel lowered his in a silent order, the gate crashing down a moment later.

At the courtyard he heard a few cheers, even a few calling out in congratulation of the impressive feat.

He himself only saw the flames of the ditches dying out, the tornado of fire beyond the walls faltering...and a black mass of darkspawn swarming into the outer courtyard without a hint of fear over the massive numbers of dead littering the ground...numbers the still living beasts quickly dwarfed as they come forth...

_And now the battle truly begins_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for saving me on this one._


	40. Chapter 40

It had become a battle of attrition.

Nathaniel got onto one knee and wiped the sweat from his brow, dark pouches were under his eyes by now and he momentarily felt sleep nearly take him right there and then.

For three days the darkspawn had bashed themselves bloody against the inner walls of the castle, for three days they had crashed against it again and again, refusing to rest, to think, to try something _different_. For three days the battle had continued. Nathaniel wasn't sure if he was supposed to be grateful of their lack of imagination or resigned to the fact that their strategy was _working_.

It was impossible to tell any more if the men and women around him were soldiers or peasants. They were _all_ wearing the armour of slain soldiers, and _all_ moving with the same sluggishness, not even caring about the constant rain of arrows pelting the walls and courtyard both.

With the hills having been dug even steeper before the battle there was no way to climb it. Even when the darkspawn went from the top of the lone road leading to the gatehouse and moved to the ledge where the archers once had stood...there was no purchase, nowhere to put a ladder, ladders that the defenders had managed to burn with oil and thrown torches on the first day anyway.

That only left the gatehouse at the top of the sloping road, and the darkspawn were adamant in breaking it open by any way possible.

They had sent in hurlocks with battering rams at it ten times, and ten times the battering rams had been burnt to little more then charred sticks, the wielders torched along with them as the oil covering them was set aflame by the defenders.

They had used ropes with hooks at the end, crowding and struggling to throw them up on top of the gatehouse and walls. The defenders had cut the ropes as the creatures climbed towards them, sending darkspawn falling down both walls and hill by the dozens.

They had, as now, tried to rain arrows over the defenders. Standing right in the open and dying in the hundreds to the return-fire the darkspawn archers scuffled with one another for space even as they sent arrow after arrow into the sky to let them rain over the defenders in the hope of slaying the odd soldier. It _did_ work, killing the odd man, but Nathaniel was sure the extra arrows the defenders received from the bombardment, since their own storages were running short, made up for it.

They had bombarded the walls with magic, fireballs and bolts of lighting smashing the stone walls time and time again.

But the walls _held_, they had been well built at their time, and strengthened by dwarven engineering they were proof against _anything_ the darkspawn could throw at them. In fact many appreciated the bombardments since they kept the footsoldiers away from their constant assaults...

_That_ was the factor that was beginning to tell on them though, exhaustion.

There was no rest! _Always_ the darkspawn were _at_ them! If it wasn't a bombardment of some sort it was a mad charge, and ineffective as each singular assault might be they forced them to stay on the walls, to fight with ever tiring arms.

Sure, Nathaniel had organised them into shifts, so that the troops could at least get _some_ sleep, however fitful it might be with the constant sounds of battle so near, but the shifts became smaller and smaller, the number of troops they could keep back ever dwindling.

They were at the end of the rope.

_And now the oil has run out_.

Nathaniel gritted his teeth, bitterness gripping him. He had been forced to use the oil more than he'd wanted during the days of siege, pouring it over the walls and lighting it on fire simply to force the darkspawn away for a while...to create a moment of rest for the troops. Not to mention to burn asunder the beasts at the bottom of the felled hill before the darkspawn indeed _could_ climb the hill and wall _both_,by climbing their dead.

Of course that meant the stored barrels were quickly emptied, that whenever they poured it from the gatehouse to stave off yet another battering ram attack Nathaniel was running a balance between being able to give the troops rest and the integrity of the gate.

It could only work for so long. Now they were out of even lamp-oil, it all having been used in a last ditch effort to force the charging monsters away for one more time.

_Maybe I shouldn't have done that_? _Maybe the time the darkspawn bombarded us with magic would be time enough for a rest_? _If I hadn't used the oil to give us some rest we would have enough to repel at least two attempts on the gate_...

He shook his head, unsure, he wasn't..._sure_, he couldn't...think about it. It wasn't that he didn't try, it was just difficult to add up the numbers...to see if he was wrong or not. _Exhaustion_..._perhaps_ _I_ _should_ _have_ _rested_ _as_ _Velanna_ _said_? _But_ _then_..._I_ _can't_ _rest_..._not_ _now_.

"You should rest."

He blinked, for a moment wondering if he was thinking louder than usual, then he saw a tanned leg appear before his blurry vision, making him realise he was still on one knee. Shaking his head he looked up, finding an oddly pale Velanna looking down at him with a small smirk, one strained by the battle, yet an honest one.

Nathaniel found himself smirking back even as he shook his head. "No, later, when there's time."

Velanna chuckled, reaching down to help him up. "For all your intelligence you're awfully stupid..."

He took her offered hand, and grunted as he pushed himself up, a weary smile on his face as he straightened. "Comes from the one having healed the wounded non-stop in-between her throwing fireballs over the battlement..."

The smirk faded, the woman before him turning serious and crossing her arms in front of her, face dead serious. "At least _I_ have taken the opportunity to sleep when offered..." She let it hang there, an accusation.

Nathaniel grimaced, but couldn't deny her words, there _had_ been opportunities to rest, the others weren't incompetent commanders, a sergeant would do most of the time. Yet...how could one explain it? He reached up, running a hand through his sweaty hair, the small gesture making him feel awfully sleepy all of a sudden, he repressed his yawn however, knowing better then to show it to the deadpan Velanna. "Look...I...this was my family's land...I should..."

"You don't owe them." Velanna snapped, glowering at him in disapproval. "We've been over this..."

Nathaniel raised a weary hand even as he nodded. "Yes...I know..._yet_..." He looked out over the battlement, a feel of solemnity descending upon him. "...these are still my people, those I dreamt of returning to...I...want their respect...however useless it might be." Sighing he looked out over the outer courtyard.

A snort escaped the woman, but it was without force. "Fine, have it your way, see if I care..."

"Velanna..."

"I intend to survive this battle, but if you'd rather die of exhaustion before that it's your right, thought that was far too idiotic for being you..."

"_Velanna_." Nathaniel grabbed her arm, feeling alarmed by how cold it was, yet unable to focus on it as the greater worry lumbered forth towards them.

The outer courtyard was full of darkspawn, this time loosening arrow after arrow up into the sky so as to drop them onto the defenders as gravity took hold over them. All along the wall men and women grunted with the odd hit glancing off their armour or drawing small wounds, but mostly with the effort of drawing the strings of their bows as they again and again sent death down upon the monsters, the arrows scything though the deep ranks of the enemy with a regularity one could set a clock to.

But marching through that crowd...

_More_ _ogres_. Nathaniel heard Velanna groan and mutter something in elvish, but stayed silent himself as he grimly counted them. _Six armoured ones_. His fingers itched, but he didn't reach for his quiver. _No use, keeping their heads down, nothing to hit_. Between them they carried a new battering ram, this one _not_ a steel-tipped trunk, but a twenty feet long _bar_ of steel as thick as any of the ogre's arms. The two at the front not only carried that one between them, but also a pair of hammers with blackened heads as large as a small wagon...

"Could you..."

"No." Velanna sighed, weariness in her voice. "They're good at...protecting those beasts...and I'm...I'm tired...can't kill all six..."

Nathaniel nodded with a lump in his throat, having already known the answer.

"We have no oil left." Nathaniel and Velanna both jumped at the fresh voice, turning they found Lynn standing just behind them. Still dressed in her armour, most of the gore washed away with the rain, the elf was the only who as Nathaniel had stayed up all three days, though _she_ had done so without showing any sign of fatigue. Despite having been using a bow all that time the elf still had had her helmet on, visor down, even her gauntlets on.

And this was the first time she had spoken since the initial assault.

Nathaniel hesitated, then nodded. "Yes Commander...I..." He hesitated again, seething with himself as he was forced to admit it. "...am not sure how to repel this assault..."

The elf cocked her head to the side, observing him, perhaps finding him at fault. Gritting his teeth Nathaniel straightened, ignoring the raining arrows as best he could as he forced himself to meet the dark slits of her visor with an even look. _I will not accept judgement, I refuse to be found wanting, I have __not__ failed my duty_!

The elf turned her head, looking over the ragged line on the wall, then shrugged. "Then don't."'

He blinked. "What?"

"We can't repel them, then let them come."

_Suicidal little_... Nathaniel pushed the thought aside with effort, finding himself glaring at his Commander. "I will not..."

She brushed past him, hands coming to rest upon the battlement as she leaned over and looked at the horde massed before them, intent on nothing but their end. For a moment she just stood there, ignoring an arrow bouncing off her visor, then she lowered her head, a small nod following. "We can do it."

"Commander...?" Nathaniel shared a glance with Velanna, the woman smirked slightly at him for some reason, but Nathaniel only knew confusion as he turned to stare at the other elf. "I'm not sure I follow..."

"We can break them." Lynn turned, the slits of her visor was nothing but darkness, her stance nothing but emptiness. Yet the _voice_...there was a hint of flint in it. "Here, now, let them break through, we'll rout them."

Nathaniel blinked. "Ly-Commander...routing darkspawn is nearly impossible, and routing a force this size has not even been _heard_ of! With such a force of _darkspawn_...!"

"I have done it." Lynn turned her head, voice barking out: "Sergeant!"

"But they were tied to the archdemon, without something so vital to them..." Nathaniel let it hang there, desperate to make her change her mind. _And do what else_? _You can't stop the ones coming up now_... He felt his shoulders slump in defeat. _Damn_ _logic_...

The taste of failure was not a pleasant one.

He barely heard Lynn's orders, though they made him blink none the less. "Get everyone on their feet, remaining peasants to have the bows on the wall. The rest is to form up on the courtyard, rouse the knights and saddle their horses."

Nathaniel frowned.

_Could they_...?

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The crash made the walls shake.

No one shouted in fright though, no one muttered even a prayer, they remained silent, grim, resting even as they stood waiting.

Nathaniel was atop the wall with the remaining peasants, the men and women checking their bows one last time with a professionalism that had been forced upon them by the days of combat. None of them rose from their crouch, none of them turned to look over the battlement, they remained low, hidden, _waiting_.

Next to him Sigrun stood, the dwarf for some reason having taken up position next to the gatehouse, her axes drawn as she with an intent smirk looked down at the entrance, waiting as patiently as any other.

He turned his head to the right, gaze following the path of the courtyard leading parallel to the walls of the keep and to the small enclave built for the servants of the keep. The path curved ever so slightly around the fort...and the houses _nearly_ hiding the mounted knights from Nathaniel's sight as they, with Justice at the head, waited for their call.

Looking back down he found the main force standing with their backs against the closed keep's gate, standing in a semi-circle their weapons were already drawn, their suits of armour scuffed and filthy, their faces dark and grim under their helmets.

At their head Lynn and Velanna stood. One resolute, calm and as unnerving as the monsters about to charge forth, a dark void of brooding violence. The other afire with energy, her rage radiating from her, aglow with elemental life.

_Maker, I love you_...

She sensed Nathaniel's smile and glanced up, a small smirk on her lips, an eyebrow cocked, confident, even now, never losing hope...

Another crash, followed by the sound of protesting metal.

He felt his mood darken, he couldn't feel the same hope, he could only calculate...

_I'll_ _always_... A shake of her head, eyes narrowed, ordering him to stop the thought, he nearly chuckled as he found himself obeying.

Nearly...

A boom and a screech...and the darkspawn roared in triumph.

A large shape rumbled into the courtyard, steel plates covering it.

Nathaniel knocked an arrow and loosed it, the missile burying itself under the neck guard of the ogre, into its spine.

It fell without a sound even as a second one entered.

Another knocked arrow, another shot, this time hitting the side of the new ogre's neck, right under the rim of its helmet, making dark blood explode over its breastplate as its jugular was cut.

The third entered, keeping its armoured arm up, covering itself from the deadly sniping shots even as it roared in blood-lust at the soldiers at the far end of the inner courtyard.

A small chuckle...and Sigrun launched herself from the wall. Her left axe swung down, crashing into the plate covering the creature's forearm with a screech. Using the momentum of the suddenly stopped fall the dwarf swung her way around the arm, her right axe slashing even as her feet swung over the ogre's shoulder.

The ogre spluttered as Sigrun deftly freed her weapons and landed behind it, her head turning to glance at it as it too falls to join its felled kin, its throat cut.

Then she flew back, crashing violently into the ranks of the soldiers as the punch of the next ogre in line struck her right in the chest.

A curse escaped the dwarf, muttered, more annoyed then anything, as she struggled to her feet.

The last two ogres entered, their massive bulks dwarfing the remaining soldiers as they moved to charge, to crash into the solid ranks and scatter them, to end the battle before it had even begun.

They both fell flat though, growls of hatred escaping them even as they clawed at the ground, their legs barely able to move as gnarled green roots shooting up from the ground twisted themselves around their legs. Velanna took a step forward, eyes glowing green as she raised her staff...and more roots appeared, catching the ogres trashing arms and pulling them down onto the ground.

Lynn charged...and the two died, heads cleaved apart.

Then the smaller darkspawn surged forth, heedlessly climbing their dead they were a _flood_ of dark death charging forth...and Nathaniel found himself gritting his teeth as he watched Velanna only barely managing to slip behind the ranks of the far better armoured defenders.

A crash of steel against steel and the flood churned like a disturbed wave as they crashed into the solid ranks of the Fereldians. Nathaniel watched, his gut gripped with worry, as the darkspawn continued to pour forth, surging onto the flanks of the small spot of defenders, surrounding them on all sides but the one they kept to their back.

The courtyard was covered in a sea of foulness, a lone rock of steel still enduring against the gate of the keep, the crashing of the waves of darkspawn against it accompanied with the red froth of blood as weapons flicked out between the two sides.

At the centre of the defenders Velanna stood, staff in both hands with its butt resting against the ground, her legs widely spaced and back straight as her eyes continued to glow green, so brilliant that it hurt to look at. And around the defenders roots again and again shot up, tangling themselves around darkspawn just about to attack their foes, disrupting them and making them easy targets for the defenders, some even shooting up with enough force to spear the odd darkspawn from below.

Sigrun was nearly impossible to spot. The dwarf flickered from one end of the defence to the other, seemingly appearing from the human soldiers shadows with her swinging axes, cutting down several attackers before suddenly fading back into the solid ranks again. Only to appear somewhere else a moment later, her weapons flickering out with deadly precision.

The Commander was impossible not to spot though. She was spinning, weaving, at the front of the defenders, a step away from them even, a defence of her own who spun and weaved with an agility none in such armour should be able to have. _Nothing_ touched her, nothing but dark blood that her swinging weapons spilled with abandon, the wide swings following the movement of the rest of her body, each one accompanied by blood and limbs flying high as the darkspawn coming at her were torn apart.

If there was red froth coming from the rest of the defenders where they fought it was a splashing up in waves around her.

Nathaniel held though, watching the churning sea of frenzied darkspawn press forth, their eyes intent on nothing but their foes ahead, pushing forward until many of them couldn't even move under the press of bodies.

_Now_.

Nathaniel rose, as did the others at the wall. He nocked his arrow to his bow, as did the others. He pulled the arrow back and aimed down, as did the others.

He released.

A thump even rising above the clash of blades reached his ear as his and the peasants arrow smashed into the backs of the pressed crowd beneath, every single arrow finding a target, every single one loosed with enough force to punch through their armour, every single one killing a foe.

The sea of foulness merely churned, new bodies pressing forth to replace the fallen, focused on their foes ahead.

He drew...and released

Drew.

Released.

Drew.

Released.

Each volley was accompanied with the dull thump of over a hundred arrows smashing into unsuspecting backs, felling darkspawn all across their mass of dark foulness and making the others stumble as they struggled with walking atop their many dead.

The sea below him churned and writhed, _boiling_ as it was pelted.

Drew.

Released.

Drew.

Released.

_The_ _stairs_! Nathaniel was barely aware that he was moving as he spotted some darkspawn, finally realising what was happening, moving up the single stair leading up to the wall and the archers tearing through them.

He leapt, he swung. His shoulder smashed into a hurlock almost at the top, bowling it over the edge, his bow connecting solidly with the jaw of a hurlock and sending it howling off the stairs.

Another instantly came at him.

Swinging wildly Nathaniel forced it back, giving him just enough time to throw his bow up onto the wall and draw Mhairi's sword from his waist.

The hurlock lunged at him and he batted the thrust aside, his foot shooting out to connect with its forehead, sending it tumbling down the stairs, ignored by the others rushing up to charge him.

Above him the peasants fired again and again, volley after volley smashing into darkspawn backs, darkspawn that couldn't even turn to face them even if they _tried_.

_Give_ _them_ _time_. Ignoring the sting of sweat running down his forehead and into his eyes Nathaniel held Mhairi's sword with both hands as he parried a slash of the genlock's dagger.

_Pain_!

He staggered, watching as the genlock withdrew its other dagger from his left leg with a grin, the blade coated with his blood.

He rewarded it with a kick from his other leg, the heel of his boot smashing its teeth in and sending it into the arms of the next one, making them both fall over the edge of the stairs and into the mass of darkspawn bellow.

A hurlock came at him next, massive blade swinging towards Nathaniel's midsection from the right.

He grunted, finding Mhairi's blade pressing into his stomach as he parried the blow, only to find the force of the impact forcing the weapon against him, and him in turn against the wall.

Fepid breath washed against his neck, the hurlock's face coming within an inch from his own, its wicked grin baring yellowing fangs. Its grin widened, mouth opening as it prepared to chomp down on him as it held him pinned against the wall.

Nathaniel drew his head back...and slammed it into the beast's face.

Dark blood splattered over his face as he felt the upper ridge of its teeth smash inwards, what little of its nose that was left become smashed into a bloody pulp.

It fell back, its sword following it as it fell down the stairs, slashing another hurlock across the face even as the body of the unconscious beast rolled into the ones below and forced them backwards.

Nathaniel gasped, his breathing ragged, but her forced himself to look away from the darkspawn about to rush up the stairs again, to focus back on the battle.

The sea of beasts was churning, in worry as much as hate now. They couldn't make more then minor dents in the solid clump of defenders, their own dead piling up around the battle line, making the attack even more futile. And all around them darkspawn fell, at random plucked away from life, thrown into oblivion by arrows that they couldn't even turn and face, never mind protect themselves from.

It was a cramped crowd, a defenceless crowd, a distraught crowd.

Nathaniel released his left hand from Mhairi's sword and reached down, thankfully finding the signal horn still resting against his waist.

He gripped it, pulled it up to his lips...and let loose a long wailing note, his tired lungs burning with the effort.

A rumble answered his call.

_Pain_!

He cried out, the horn dropping from limp fingers as he found a jagged sword stabbed through his right thigh. The hurlock reaching him bayed in victory and wrenched the hilt of its blade upwards, making Nathaniel lose his footing and drop onto his back even as agony rushed through his spine, paralysing him.

His left leg swept out on instinct, connecting with the creature's jaw and sending it over the edge of the stairs with a howl, its sword following in a rain of blood as it was ripped sideways out of Nathaniel's leg.

_Agony_...

Nathaniel gasped, head swimming, his chest cold as ice, his leg afire, his left hand coming down to rest upon the stone steps as he struggled not to roll over and fall after the creature.

_Agony_...

Another hurlock, grinning with victory, rushed at him. It almost seemed to be moving through water to Nathaniel's tired eyes, and it was with a detached disinterest that he raised his sword with one hand, knowing the weak grip on the weapon would give at the downward slash coming at him...

Light, blinding him.

The darkspawn was smashed into the wall, mouth opening in a scream, yet no sound came as its chest, a huge crater in it, crumpled inwards in scorched flesh and sizzling armour.

It fell, dead.

And then there was life, refreshing, _life_ flooding into him! Nathaniel gasped at the sensation of the wound in his leg closing up and turned to look over the courtyard.

Velanna's eyes were no longer brilliant green, but the usual bright grey...and twinkling with a grin. _I'm never going to live that one down_...

All thoughts of such things were swept away with the charge though, a mere thirty knights with Justice at the head...crashing, lances first, into the sea of darkspawn. Justice's lance took a hurlock alpha in the chest, pushed it up in the air...and sent it flying across the churning sea of foulness, showering it in blood.

The charge was a battering ram, slamming dozens of darkspawn over, crushing them under flailing hooves even as those beyond were sent crashing sideways into one another, making the entire sea of darkspawn sway with the impact, like grass under the wind.

Hesitation.

More arrows slammed into them, no longer in volleys but as a steady rain, faster then before, tearing through the creatures with abandon.

A ripple.

The Fereldian soldiers suddenly moved, pushing forth in a wedge their swinging weapons slew the nearest monsters with horrible efficiency as they surged into the black sea around them. At their head Lynn, a crimson knight of a nightmare, led them, carving a bloody path through the darkspawn, _unstoppable_.

And the darkspawn broke.

As one they turned and ran, howling in something akin to agony as they tried to flee, only for the press of their numbers working against them as the knights and soldiers widened their ranks and pushed forth, tearing through the rear of the fleeing darkspawn, ripping through them with near machine-like steadiness.

A cheer rose from those above, and to his surprise, Nathaniel echoed it.

_Get out of my home you filthy_... "With me!" Nathaniel leaped down the stairs, hearing the peasants above drawing their own weapons and following even as he joined the pursuit, slamming Mhairi's sword deep into the back of a hurlock as it clawed at those before it in a frenzied attempt to get away.

_We_ _will_ _never_ _give_!

He slashed at the next one, opening the back of its skull in a fountain of blood.

_We will never break_!

A downward slash, opening the leg of a hurlock and forcing it on its knees.

_We will never die_!

He finds himself growling, pent up anger releasing as he gripped the hurlock by the throat and stabbed Mhairi's sword into its back, the weapons coming out its chest with a crack and a howl of agony.

_I will not allow it_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for keeping at it._


	41. Chapter 41

There was no oil with which to burn the bodies.

Instead they were left to rot.

There wasn't much in the way of options. The darkspawn killed in the inner courtyard had been thrown into the outer bailey, and the dead defenders put in the cold dungeon until they could be given a proper burial. But those left had had no strength to do more then that. They had simply closed the gates, marched into the keep and fallen asleep, more dead than alive.

Nathaniel however, couldn't sleep.

Dead on his feet...and sleep still eluded him.

It made his head throb with each beat of his heart.

Leaning heavily against the battlements of the inner wall...a wall still scuffed, torched by fire and stained with blood...he could only gaze across the destruction with a mix of awe and pain.

_My home_...

With the horde finally gone Nathaniel could finally get a good look at things...and it was a _horrifying_ sight. The houses within the first wall had been trampled, _trampled_ into splinters! The walls themselves were covered in blackened and crusted blood bled from the since long killed darkspawn strewn atop it, making it look as if it was a large bowl which was over-brimming with gore.

And the only reason the ground stretching before him wasn't visibly covered with blood...

_So many dead_... He shook his head, his brain painfully shifting with the movement, making him grimace.

The ground was black. If it had been a churning sea of activity before it was now still, silent..._staggering_.

The dead lay in piles upon piles, hiding the ground beneath them. There were fewer near the outer walls, making it seem as if the still sea was slightly inclined, as if it had been washing towards the keep...only to freeze to a stop. The single road up the slope to the inner wall was black with corpses as well, but corpses crushed and flattened by darkspawn and human running feet alike.

They had chased the retreating darkspawn, chased them for a mile past the outer gate, in a frenzy...which in the end had been defeated by fear and weariness, forcing them back into their stronghold. _If the darkspawn had turned back_...Nathaniel shuddered at the thought. Thousands of darkspawn had escaped at the end, enough to easily slaughter the few survivors of the siege. _But they didn't, and we're alive_.

Yet he _couldn't_ sleep, _couldn't _relax, feeling..._incomplete_...as if they hadn't quite won.

_Then again, we haven't_. He felt a hint of bitter tears struggle at the corner of his eyes and blinked them away. It was easy to remember those broodmothers they had slain before, that there were _more_ out there, birthing _more_ of those monsters, more that would come for the Keep... _We got a breather, nothing more_.

He felt his breath hitch, grim eyes fixed upon the dead, torn and shredded, covering the ground.

_My_ _home_...

There was no damage that couldn't be fixed, the houses could be rebuilt, the walls polished fresh again, the corpses burnt and the ashes swept away...he _knew_ that.

He also knew it wouldn't be the same.

His childhood memories were already distant, fading...and _now_..._tarnished_.

How could he remember trying his bow for the first time under the shadow of the gatehouse...when all he could remember would be the scorched and torn remains of hundreds of darkspawn piled over one another? How could he remember rolling down the hill with his sister when all he could remember would be the torn remains of dead darkspawn lying in droves beneath it? How could he find anything _good_ with it now? It would perhaps heal, become a place to live in without feeling an aching pain...but it would never be his childhood home any more, not after _this_.

_My_ _home_...

He grit his teeth, tensed, fists balling into fists against a battlement that once had been part of him...but now was just rocks.

Then relaxed.

_So be it_.

He felt an painful urge to go find Velanna, to just... _No, she's got enough trouble healing all the wounded in the keep_. He shook his head, once more grimacing at the way his brain jarred within his sore skull. _And this is my own cross to bear, she has already lost a home, shouldn't have to hear of it again_...

_I'll_ _endure_. The thought brought him some comfort, it was the simple truth, his current grief would fade, not disappear, but then again he didn't desire that, one should _never_ forget. _It'll be good enough_.

He heard the sound of approaching steps, but didn't turn, letting himself soak up the moment for a bit longer, to linger with his now accepted grief for what had been lost.

The steps were close though, armoured, heavy...with an internal sigh Nathaniel assumed a neutral look on his face and brushed his thoughts aside as he shot a glance to his right at the new arrival stepping up to lean against the battlement next to him.

The seneschal looked older then a few days ago, Nathaniel was sure it was more due to worry for the sake of the keep and grief over the loss of the city then any strain of fear of dying, he understood it far too well. Still in his armour, part of the right shoulder pad torn off with part of the chainmail around his neck, the man was still splattered with the blood of men and darkspawn alike, as Nathaniel was.

He looked tired...and unsure...

Nathaniel managed a tired smile at that. He and the seneschal hadn't traded many words since the Commander had taken him from the dungeon and made him a Warden, something the seneschal...quite rightly considering what he could have expected out of a murderer and thief, not to mention a Howe...had disagreed on. Yet Nathaniel had been made a Warden, and during the battle _he_ had been the one shouting orders most of the time, orders the seneschal had obeyed without question, just as much due to instinct as need.

And now...things were awkward for the man as the calm enabled him to ponder who he had deferred to.

Nathaniel's smile faded due to exhaustion, but he kept his tone pleasant as he offered the other man a curt nod. "Seneschal." He glanced down, remembering the maul that had caught the old man in the thigh. "How is the leg?"

"Erm...good...thank you..." The old man licked his lips, watching Nathaniel who kept his eyes, but not his attention, fixed upon the outer courtyard. The seneschal hesitated, as if picking his word with care. "...Warden."

Nathaniel nodded in mute acceptance.

A silence, tired and comfortable, descended upon them.

_It's_ _strange_..._there_ _is_ _no_ _stench_. Nathaniel could in fact almost imagine the smell of the distant forest, even as he realised his nose had become so used to the smell of death surrounding them that it didn't even register it any more. _A blessing I'm sure_.

The seneschal was the first to break the silence, Nathaniel wasn't surprised, others _always_ were, as if prolonged silence somehow frightened them. With a small mutter the man reached down, the sound of a cork being unscrewed nearly instantly following.

The offered canteen was of metal, the content sloshing...and stinking of alcohol.

Nathaniel took it with another bow of his head, tossing his head back as he took a swig from it.

It was _strong_.

Nathaniel nodded in approval as he relented, knowing better then to wipe his mouth with his sleeve with all the gore on him as he offered the canteen back to the seneschal who in turn moved to drink.

When he finally let the canteen drop the seneschal's voice was muted, respectful. "You did well...Warden."

"As did you." Nathaniel, pondering the obvious statements, wondering where the seneschal was going with things.

"We...would not have lasted without you...I...thank you..." The seneschal hesitated again, grimacing, as if the next word tasted wrong. "...Warden."

"This is my _home_..." Nathaniel gestured for the sea of dead, wondering at the irony of his statement now that it no longer felt like home any longer. "...my _duty_..." He shrugged, as much as his weary arms would allow. "...I _couldn't_ have acted in any other way." He turned to look at the other man, remembering his mother's lesson's well._ Look them in the eyes_... "But thank you ser, your words are appreciated, as is your kind gesture."

The seneschal swallowed, his tired grey eyes meeting Nathaniel's, then looking away with a respectful nod. "Yes...well...good."

The pair returned to leaning over the battlement as silence once more descended upon them, lighter and more comfortable this time, at least for the seneschal that now visibly relaxed, his burden lifted.

Nathaniel however... _Duty, home, it will all be for naught if those creatures recover and come back with fresh numbers_...

"We have not won." Nathaniel flinched, the words spoken from the figure that had somehow snuck up on them echoed his own troubled thoughts. Next to him the seneschal actually let loose a small curse as he jumped at the new sound.

Both turned however, regarding the small shape of their Commander with a mix of fear and envy.

Of them all Lynn was the only one that had cleaned her armour, the woman's movements still brisk and sharp, not showing the _slightest_ hint of tiring. She had been at the forefront all throughout the three day long battle, never stopping for sleep or even a small rest, had been at the front under the pursuit and the last to move back, almost unwillingly turning from the retreating monsters...yet she wasn't even _tired_.

It was worthy of both fear and envy.

Still the visor of her helmet was down, still she had her weapons at her side, as if expecting to fight at any moment, or perhaps even hungering for it. She regarded the men with coldness, or so the dark slits looking up at them told Nathaniel.

There was only fear to find in that...

Nathaniel didn't much care for fear by now though, and met the darkness looking at him with an even gaze. "I know Commander."

The seneschal shifted his feet at Nathaniel's words, troubled, awkward...no doubt feeling out of place as well as worried by the implication of more fighting ahead.

The elf didn't even acknowledge the man's existence as she spoke. "We should push our advantage, before they recover."

"Agreed, Commander." Nathaniel nodded, keeping his tone neutral. _So __now__ you want to lead_..._or perhaps it's just more battles ahead that you desire_?

"Can you track them back to their lair?"

A snort escaped him at that, weary but honest. "_Anyone_ could track them Commander. I could find their heart."

"Good." A short nod, then a turn of her head as the elf regarded the setting sun. "We leave tomorrow."

Nathaniel wasn't surprised, but the seneschal spluttered: "Tomorrow! You'll be tired, exhausted! You'll need an escort if you're to-"

"We will have one." The Commander looked back at the seneschal, making the old man stop mid-sentence. "The uninjured soldiers and those without debilitating injuries will be ready to march tomorrow."

"That's impossible!"

Nathaniel grimaced, watching with a sense of dark foreboding as the Commander took a step towards the seneschal, making the man press back against the battlement behind him on instinct. "They _will_ be ready to march, they _will_ do so because I _tell_ them to, and _if_ _not_ they will have committed _treason_, and if they commit treason..." She let it hang there, the threat unspoken, but painfully clear.

"Y-you can't..."

"I can." Lynn's voice was cold, hard, _final_.

The seneschal's mouth slammed shut, his eyes still wide with shock. Nathaniel understood his reasons, there weren't many soldiers left, all were injured, exhausted, in need of recovering...preferably for a week. But Nathaniel knew it would be no budging the Commander, and that she _technically_ was right. On the other hand he himself wondered what she would do with such a small force against so many darkspawn defending their lair...

He watched the elf with narrowed eyes.

And his Commander turned and walked away, refusing to meet his unspoken question.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not getting bored with this one. ;-)_


	42. Chapter 42

He was finally asleep.

Velanna smiled, as she had for the last two hours, content to just sit there, legs still before her, back against a tree as Nathaniel's head rested upon her lap.

Three days of battle, another day preparing, another one marching...with him scouting ahead over and over...only for her to finally convince him to rest as they came deep enough in darkspawn territory for the remaining knights to be able to do the scouting on their own. And when he relaxed...he had _instantly_ fallen asleep, nearly dead.

However much it had pained her to know just how tired he was...it was a relief to see him finally rest, to ease away some of the darkness gathering around his eyes, to smoothen some of the worry-lines in his face.

He was completely limp where he lay resting against her, chest barely moving with his breathing, eyes closed in a dreamless sleep.

He deserved the rest.

To be truthful she herself felt tired. The fighting had left her as drained as any of the soldiers, perhaps more so since she had constantly been called upon to heal the injured, something she _still_ wasn't good at, meaning she kept expending more energy then Anders would have. Even after the battle she had been called to heal them, to make as many ready for the march as possible. So not only had she been forced to work when all she wanted was sleep...but also forced to struggle with soldiers that suddenly didn't _want_ the healing she was offering.

She herself had felt some trepidation at the idea of marching out so soon. But Nathaniel had been the one entering the keep to break the news to the others, showing without it needing to be said that he agreed with the order given...and Velanna had a sneaky suspicion that was the only reason the soldiers had only moaned in protest rather then cry out in outrage.

But Velanna had at least gotten some sleep, after all, once the troops were healed she wasn't really needed. But _Nathaniel_ had stayed, talked to each and every soldier that was fit enough to continue the march, refused her demand that he too should get some rest, even when she had offered it with a hushed promise of pleasure...so what could she do? Only sleep, rest up so as to better take care of the stubborn idiot trying to kill himself, that's what

_Damn_ _idiot_...Smiling she kept a hand under his head as the other's fingertips brushed against his forehead, pushing rogue strands of dark hair back behind his ear and putting her palm against his cheek. He didn't stir under her touch, too out of it to even register it. _If you keep this up_... She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat and pushed the thought aside. _No, I won't lose more, I won't_.

The thought didn't help. _Seranni_... She blinked, watching Nathaniel's peaceful face as her heart screwed tight. _Delilah_... The man hadn't said a word about Delilah during the battle _or_ back at Amaranthine, not a _single_ word...it was as if he had repelled the grief...unable to face it. _Or perhaps he took my advice of always hoping to heart_? It was a vain hope, he hadn't, Velanna was sure of it...he was just..._hiding_ it...from everyone, from her, from the Commander, perhaps even from _himself_...

_It's_ _not_ _fair_. She swallowed again, her breath shuddering as her hand remained against his cheek ,fingers in his hair. _You_ _deserve_..._more_..._better_ _then_ _all_ _this_. Her head dropped, her gaze moving to herself, that old self-loathing of hers creeping up again as she remembered all her bad choices, all her failings... _I_ _wish_ _I_ _could_..._be_ _better_ _for_ _you_..._make_ _it_ _go_ _away_..._or at least be strong enough to bear more of your burden for you_... She blinked, a tear of grief suddenly hanging from her eyelashes.

She _hated_ it, glared at it as it hung there, a blurry point before her vision. She had cried so much as of late...it had welled out of her, grief she hadn't _allowed_ herself to feel suddenly making itself known, fresh as the day it had struck her.

_And I had been selfish_..._let_ _it_ _come_..._wallowed_ _in_ _it_. She shook her head, letting the tear fall on Nathaniel's leather-clad chest. _I shouldn't' have, I should have remained strong and proud, maybe then I could have_..._done more for you_...

It was Nathaniel's fault, in a away, he'd cracked her open... _No, my fault, for letting myself become so_. She hung her head in shame. _I_ _should_ _have_..._I_..._don't_ _know_...

She felt helpless.

_Foolish_ _love_...

She regarded the weathered face bellow her, sadly, yet regretting nothing. _And __that's__ what I regret_..._foolish love_..._I don't __want__ to feel this_..._I_ _can't_ _help_ _you_..._yet_ _I_ _must_..._it_ _hurts_..._please_..._just_ _stop_ _driving_ _yourself_ _like_ _this_..._please_ _just_..._something I can_..._help_ _with_...

"You're thinking too much." Nathaniel's mouth moved, slowly, a low, a sleepy mutter as his hand came up to press against the one she held against his cheek, his eyes remained closed though. "I can feel it all the way over here."

Velanna's other hand left the back of his head to press against her upper lip as she stifled a sniffle, blinking furiously as she struggled to compose herself. _Dammit_... Nathaniel kept his eyes closed however, letting her save her dignity...and she hated herself for needing it. _Damn_ _pride_... She managed to keep her voice kind, though it wavered as she spoke: "You should be sleeping..."

"I could for a while...but I'm too worried." The man admitted, a small smile on his lips. "This is nice though...hope I haven't been any trouble..."

Velanna shook her head emphatically, smiling even as she felt another hated tear appearing. Not at all...in fact you should stay like this for a few more hours."

"I don't-"

Velanna's hand came down, palm pressing against his chest, keeping him away from getting up. "No, stay, rest."

His eyes were still closed, too heavy to open perhaps, but he smirked. "Your wish is my command my lady."

Velanna snorted at that, breath shuddering with an echo of the worry that wouldn't leave her alone: "If that was the case you'd sleep more..."

"I'm sorry." His hand came to grasp her wrist, holding her hand against his chest even as he opened his eyes, the dark grey orbs warm but serious as they met hers. "I've caused you pain...it was not my intention."

She looked away, blinked, furious with herself as her heart fluttered in a mix of panic and _cursed_ affection. "Thoughtless fool..."

The hand holding hers against his cheek came up, brushing against her own cheek before gently holding the back of her neck, forcing her to look back at him. He was _smiling_ at her, a soft, sympathetic smile. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Velanna managed a tired smile, shaking her head. "If you don't you'll find yourself on fire..."

"Come here..."

Nathaniel's hand pulled at her neck, weakly, but she didn't struggle against it as she was pulled down, her eyes closing as she breathed out a sigh of relief as much as anticipation...

Warm breath...

"Okay! On your feet! Get up!" The shout of the sergeant snapped through the moment as strongly as if it had been the clash of blades.

They stopped, their breaths brushing against one another, then an amused groan escaped Nathaniel even as Velanna, smiling weakly, bent low to rest her forehead against his chest. _Damn that timing_...

"Up! We're moving out!"

With a grumble the two rose, following the example of the soldiers around them, forcing Velanna to once more pay attention to the world around her. As of late she had learnt to _hate_ that...

There couldn't be more then fifty men with them, all tired, dusty, armour still scuffed from the battle they had come through. The seneschal, marching through the ranks with a face carved out of stone for all the expressions he made by now, still wore armour torn open along the shoulder...

Around them the ground was broken, the trees gnarled, the ground just dust and rocks, a wasteland that was nothing but broken peaks and rocky pathways...utter desolation.

Already the men were forming into a column, wanting nothing more then to continue their march if they weren't allowed to rest, the place seemed to make everyone nervous and as such they wanted to keep going. It wasn't so much a feeling of eyes watching them, or the feel of the entire world having turned into such a wasteland all of a sudden...it was more the utter abandonment of life, as if the emptiness around them were sapping away at their struggling lives.

Velanna shook her head, willing the thoughts aside, it was no use to ponder...

"Nathaniel, we're moving." Velanna jumped, finding Lynn in front of the two, catching her by surprise. The dark slits of the Commander's eyes watched the pair, a void gazing into them...and Velanna took Nathaniel's hand in hers as she raised her chin in defiance, meeting the void head on. _No, I will not be ashamed, not before the likes of you_. "I have told the seneschal I'm taking the Warden's to scout ahead."

Nathaniel's hand in hers twitched, but his face and tone remained neutral as he spoke: "I see...the knights?"

There was a pause, the elf's head cocking to the side. "They have not returned from their latest excursion."

Another twitch, this time almost painful. "I see..." This time he paused, Velanna glancing at him in curiosity and finding his head bowed and eyes closed, a frown creasing his forehead as he took a deep breath. _What_- "...as you wish...Commander."

A nod, short and precise. "Of course...Warden." And the Commander turned her heel on them, marching on and expecting them to follow...which they dully did, Nathaniel stubbornly ignoring Velanna's questioning glare.

The others were waiting for them at the edge of their depressing little camp. Justice, still hiding his face behind his closed helmet, standing straight and waiting, as expressive as a statue. Sigrun,shifting her feet nervously where she stood, eyes darting between the surroundings and the gathering troops, her smiles gone.

None else was left...making Velanna painfully aware of those they'd lost.

"Commander, I will take the men down the southern canyon, we'll link up at the other end..." Velanna turned and found the seneschal, standing at the flank of the now prepared column of weary men, saluting crisply at Lynn even as his gaze darted toward Nathaniel at her side.

Lynn didn't seem to notice though, the elf nodding casually. "Good." Nothing more was said as she turned to join the other Wardens, the seneschal too turning without further words to order the column into a march.

Lynn brushed past the others, not a word escaping her as she moved to climb the rocky ground. Velanna frowned in confusion. _Wouldn't climbing and such make us slower then the column_? _Then_ _how_ _will_ _we_ _scout_? Nathaniel released her hand and moved to follow Lynn, followed by Justice...then a hesitant Sigrun.

Finally Velanna shrugged and moved to follow, hearing Sigrun's hesitant voice echo her thoughts: "Commander...how will we scout for the troops like this?"

The response was clipped and cold. "We won't."

"Then how...?" Sigrun's voice faded as Velanna turned cold, hearing a sudden roar in the distance.

Nathaniel's voice was low, muttered, _shamed_.

"They're bait."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for many things._


	43. Chapter 43

Something was wrong.

Nathaniel wasn't sure _what_ though, and found himself tensing as a startled animal as he stalked forth, a little over a dozen feet ahead of the others.

The caves they had found had been guarded by an old, crumpling fort, which they had easily moved into, happy to get into the darkness underneath where they couldn't hear the sounds of battle and the screams of dying soldiers. Even the corruption of darkspawn filth covering the walls as they descended the tunnels, that Sigrun had assured them weren't of dwarven make, had been welcomed. Nathaniel had an odd feeling of them all..._enjoying_ it.

_Perhaps it's because we can't hear the dying down here_. He found his mouth frowning. He knew Lynn's idea of a distraction was a good one, their objective before all after all. But it was at the same time wrong to sacrifice soldiers that had fought so hard for her, who had given their all and rightly deserved a rest, a small hamlet each at the least..._ Not death_... He shook his head. _Life's not fair, move on_.

Why was something wrong though? The enemy attack upon the column had drained the defences, Nathaniel was sure that without it they would have been challenged at the gate of the ruins. Yet now the place was silent, not a single darkspawn to confront them, nothing but empty hallways and the distant sound of dripping water. It made sense, even though Nathaniel would, if he'd been in their shoes, left a few guards behind, he couldn't ask such sense from darkspawn however.

_Yet_..._for __all__ of them to leave_..._it is a bit of overkill, even for darkspawn_. Nathaniel kept expecting a tug in his chest signifying their presence, but it was nothing but a distant thing...

But no, it wasn't _that_ that felt wrong, not _really_.

Perhaps it was the feel of them closing in on their target? To find the end of their journey? The group sure had been quiet...

Glancing back he found Lynn at the head of the others, the Commander's body-language looking..._impatient_...as if straining not to brush past him and rush forth into whatever awaited them. Just behind her Velanna hovered, frowning at him, as she had for an age now it felt. _I'll get sleep later dammit_...he shot a frown back, making the woman smirk, if barely.

Justice was, as always, stoic and silent, even with his heavy armour, looking calm and steady as he marched forth...then again...what did a spirit inhabiting a corpse have to lose? Next to him Sigrun walked, the dwarf looking particularly small compared to the sizable corpse, she almost seemed to have acquired some of the man's behaviour. Her was face a mask of neutrality as she slowly walked beside him, eyes introvert as she gazed at her feet, reminding Nathaniel all too poignant of the legion of the dead warriors she had once left behind in the deep roads. _This must be hell for her_.

No, it wasn't something that specific. Just a _feeling_...a feeling of something being...amiss? Turning his head left and right Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, glaring at the dark side-passages he'd so far ignored, the trail clear as to where they should go. Was it an ambush waiting to happen? No...he cocked his head to the side, trying to...listen...not sure as to _what_ he was listening for. All he knew was that there was _no_ ambush, it was far more..._peculiar_...

Suddenly he _wished_ for an attack, a fight, _surely_ they had gotten deep enough to encounter _something_?

As if sensing his thoughts _something_ appeared.

Nathaniel stumbled to a halt, blinking, dazed as he realised a single figure was suddenly standing before them, half hidden in shadows, where he _knew_ nothing had been a moment before.

An oath and an arrow was pulled back on his bow, Justice and Sigrun both moving to guard his flanks with drawn weapons, their formation coming on instinct.

Only Lynn and Velanna didn't move. The shorter elf merely standing there, head cocked. And the other...

"_S_-_Seranni_?" Velanna's voice was _tiny_.

Nathaniel eased back the string of his bow, licking his lips nervously as his gaze darted to the woman slowly inching past him, then back to the figure stepping out of the shadows.

Velanna was moving furtively, like a worried cat testing going closer to the sleeping dog. Her eyes were large with wonder and emotion, tears already forming at the corners. Her lips trembling. Her right hand clutched her staff, yet she held it lowered, forgotten...the other was reaching out, slender fingers pushing outwards, as if slipping through fabric hanging before her...

She was moving as if in a dream...while the other elf just stood there...sombre and...

It was _horrible_.

The woman was still nearly as tall as Velanna, still feminine in her shape, though a little stockier then before. Her pale skin was virtually gone, replaced by the dark blue veins that now seemed to cover her entire skin, veins that had grown black and rough. Her eyes were calm, calm and pale, dead save a lone ghost of sadness. Her hair pale and white as snow, dead as it framed her face. Her cheeks had sunken more since Nathaniel had seen her last, a lifetime ago it felt like, sunken and covered with the same bulging black veins, making it look as if her skin was actually covered with dark worms. She wore no armour any more, only a loose robe of brown cloth, torn and frayed, no weapons either...yet Nathaniel felt _threatened_.

Grimly he realised it was _fear _he felt, fear of turning into something _similar_...filthy and tainted, on the outside, not _just_ within his veins...he felt his chest tighten at the thought.

A small smile of the monster before them, revealing a hint of yellowing fangs. "Sister...it's good to see you."

The tainted thing made no attempt to move closer, and Velanna only made two more steps before coming to a halt, her mouth moving, but no sounds coming as her hand was lowered, eyes still large, now with horror.

The smile remained, if weakly, as the creature bowed her head slightly and said: "You look good with your hair down...always told you that..."

"Seranni..." Velanna croaked the name, her head lowering along with her arms, shoulder slouching in defeat, her whole body swaying, as if caught in some unfelt wind.

Nathaniel crossed the distance, two hands landing on her shoulders, squeezing them even as he kept his narrowed eyes upon the creature before them.

He only found a tainted smile, benevolent and kind despite the wicked fangs, aimed in his direction. "Thank you human...that gives me hope...for her."

Nathaniel opened his mouth, but found nothing to say.

"Tell me why I shouldn't gut you right now." Lynn was suddenly next to the pair, sword drawn and pointing at the creature, though her stance was almost...relaxed.

"Lynn!" Velanna nearly shrieked the name and whirled about to glare at Lynn, making Nathaniel's grip on her shoulders tighten as the sudden movement nearly made the swaying elf fall over.

The creature looked back at the armoured warrior calmly, uncaring of the threat, gazing at the dark visor with sad pale eyes...

And Lynn looked away.

It was merely s tiny shift of her armoured head, but it was _there_...

Silence.

Then the monster spoke, the harsh voice strange as it assumed a diplomatic tone: "Because I'm nothing but a messenger. The Architect wishes to see you."

Silence.

Then Lynn lowered her blade, though her voice remained sharp. "Explain."

"He believes you have a mutual interest..." The creature shrugged, speaking slowly, as if having all the time in the world. "He sent many of his warriors to the surface to combat those of the Mother's to help you." _The darkspawn that fought the others_... "He did this to save you, to help you, because he believes you two can together defeat the Mother, to stop her madness."

"Why would I listen to a creature of filth such as it?" Lynn snorted the words, but the scorn sounded unconvincing. "Darkspawn cannot be reasoned with..."

"Am _I_ not proof of the opposite?" The creature queried with a faint smile. "All he asks is for you to listen to his offer, to hear what he has to offer us..._all_ of us..." The smile widened a fraction, gaze darting to Velanna even as a blackened, taloned hand reached towards the elf...only to fall as the smile faltered. A small sigh and the monster shrugged as it turned back to regarding Lynn: "And once you're done listening, you are, if you do not condone his idea...free to kill him."

"That's an odd offer..." Nathaniel muttered, eyes darting between the worryingly pale Velanna and the creature that once had been an elf. "What's the catch?"

"No catch." The creature smirked at him, surprising him by still being capable of amusement. "It's an offer of someone utterly convinced of his cause." He head turned back, regarding the impassive armoured head of the Commander. "And that you will accept his offer."

Silence.

A distant drip of water.

Justice's armour creaking as the warrior suddenly shifted, uncomfortable for some reason.

"Very well..." Lynn did not sound the least eager. "...take us to the architect."

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It didn't take long to reach him, even with Nathaniel supporting a Velanna that might as well have been struck mute with all that she replied to his more and more panicked attempts to rouse her from her shock.

His attempts, and Velanna's silence, had ended with their arrival.

The room was small, a mere alcove in the large cave path leading to whatever that 'Mother' was. It was easily illuminated by a single glowing stone of amber resting on the staff of the creature. The Architect was much as Nathaniel remembered it from being bent over him so long ago. Tall compared to even a hurlock, spindly...and bowed over its staff, as if suffering

The white eyes regarding the group were calm, though its long fingers drummed upon the staff it leant on.

"You monster!" Velanna's shock was immediately gone.

She leapt forth, her hands curling into claws, only to have Nathaniel grab her shoulders and hold her back, worried eyes upon the Architect's staff, so casually leant on, as if it was nothing but a stick upon which it supported itself on... His attention was however torn back to Velanna as she pulled and struggled against his grip, her hands curling into fists, her voice a mad shriek: "Change her back! Change her back _now_!"

The Architect's voice was a dry rasp: "My apologies, I cannot-"

"Change her _back_!" Velanna leapt, and all Nathaniel could do was to in panic wrap both his arms around her waist and bodily drag her back as she struggled like possessed. "I demand that you-!"

The slap echoed within the chamber, hard and metallic as the back of Lynn's gauntlet caught the other elf's cheek, knocking her head sideways and practically turning her limp in Nathaniel's arms, creating a red mark upon Velanna's cheek, stained by blood, even as the Dalish continued to speak, but now in a mere mutter: "Change her back...change her back...change her back..." It was a mantra, a mantra keeping her up, a mantra keeping her _down_.

_Maker_...

Nathaniel didn't know _what_ to do, so he settled for shooting Lynn a glare before dropping to one knee, letting Velanna slip down into his arms as he held her. "It's okay, just let them talk, it's all you can do..."

The woman's eyes were closed, refusing to meet his earnest gaze as her lips kept moving in a whisper: "Change her back...change her back...change her back..."

"It'll be okay, as you said...hope..._hope_..." He moved a hand up, pushing her hair back over her ear even as the other cradled her head. _Maker_, _she's_ _not_..._no_..._no_! "You've got to..._please_...hope..." _I_ _don't_ _even_ _hope_..._I_ _can't_ _convince_ _her_..._Maker_ _no_...!

"You had an offer." Lynn's voice was empty as she with equally neutral stance, regarded the creature standing before her. "Speak it now."

"Commander." Justice growled, interrupting the emissary as it opened its mouth. "This is a creature of filth, Kristoff's memories are full of hatred, as am I, this monster is responsible for the slaughter of countless humans, and as you yourself told me, it even ambushed you and your friends to perform experiments on you, justice demands that we slay it now."

Lynn ignored him, dark slits of her armour fixed upon the emissary. "Speak."

"Commander..."

Lynn spun, leg flying high and wide.

A clang.

And Justice fell onto his back, his helmet dented where her heel had struck.

A moment later the elf was standing as if she'd never moved, regarding the darkspawn even as she spoke: "I'll ask your opinion when I want it." She raised a hand, pointing it at the darkspawn, an impatient gesture. "Now, speak."

"Very well." If the pale creature felt any surprise at the behaviour of the woman facing it it didn't show in his face as he bowed his head. "The Mother is nearby, she's mad and intends to fight your kind to her last breath, she intends to start a new blight, to start the song that it brings again."

"The song?" Lynn repeated, tone neutral.

"The song is something my kind always hears...but it can only be perfect when one of the old gods is awakened." The Architect cocked his head to the side, eyes closing, listening even as its tone grew soft. "It's beautiful..." The eyes opened again, a hint of flint within them. "...and enslaving. My brethren must free the old gods, they _must_ find the song and start a new blight, swarm the surface and be killed by your kind, they cannot help it. Me...I have made a choice, a choice not to listen, to make my own path, to _choose_."

The others were listening intently, Seranni standing in the shadow of the Architect, a silent supporter whose pale eyes remained upon the creature with a look of worship in them, not even _glancing_ at the still muttering Velanna.

_Sister_ _indeed_... Nathaniel almost growled where he sat, holding Velanna, gently rocking her back and forth as he kept stroking her hair, only listening to the exchange with half an ear as he kept staring at her face, waiting for when those eyes might open. His voice trembled: "She's alive." _Delilah_... He swallowed. "She's alive and well, remember that." _Delilah_... He swallowed again, blinking. _Not_ _now_. "You...she's alive...positive even...that's so-something..." _Delilah_! He sniffled, held her close, the comforting hand going through her hair as much for her sake as for his own all of a sudden.

"And this Mother?"

"A mistake." The Architect muttered it, a tone of regret in his raspy voice. "I have tried to free many of my brethren, some listen. As for the Mother...I freed her from the call...and it drew her mad...she desires the song, there's nothing _but_ it on her mind...and she'll slaughter all on the surface to find it once more."

Velanna still refused to open her eyes, the woman limp in his arms, her hands making furtive gestures to try and get up, only to drop back down again. "Change her back...please...Seranni..." _Maker_ _please_...

Nathaniel felt..._powerless_...

Bowing his head he rested his forehead against Velanna's shoulder as both his hands dug into her hair, clutching at her. "Please...Velanna...you're always strong..._don't_...don't be like this...not now..."

"And how is this involve me? Other then that I should kill you for making such a mistake in addition to being a filthy monster?"

"Because at this moment there are thousands of my brethren between you and the mother, because I desire you to succeed in killing her, because I can help you in reaching her, to end her." The emissary retorted, impassive. "Because I, in freeing my brethren, desire peace between our two kinds. The mother was a mistake yes, but one of many successes, imagine it, _no_ _more blights_..."

A pause.

Long and tense...the Commander...seemingly vibrating within her armour.

"_No_ more blights?" The voice was...tense...a flicker of energy in it, _eagerness_

"Yes...I can _make_ it a reality." The Architect spoke of it as fact, no boasting, no hesitation, _conviction_. "But in order to do so the Mother must die, she cannot continue her hunt for the old gods, she cannot be allowed to create a new blight."

"We are here to end her, as Wardens we stop the blights..." Lynn's voice shook ever so slightly. "...but...no more blights..._ever_?"

Behind him Seranni's head bobbed in eagerness, yellowed fangs bared into a mad grin, the Architect nodded as well, but more sedately. "Yes, my brethren cannot choose their fate, so I will make it _for_ them...and they will, once it's complete, never again threaten your kind again."

Silence.

Silence save Nathaniel's murmuring as he held Velanna tight, misery rolling over him in waves as he stared at her eyelids, _begging_ them to open. "Please Velanna...you have us, you have a life, you have..." _Delilah_..._I_... "..._me_...please...don't...don't think about it..."

Blinking he realised he was crying.

But none noticed.

"Very well." Lynn's voice was anything but casual, there was a vigour in it Nathaniel had never heard...yet he couldn't bring himself to care. "I accept your help, together we will slay the Mother and...stop the blights..." Dreaming...

"Excellent." The Architect nodded, a small smile on his thin lips. "We will begin immediately, time is of the essence." With that he moved to leave...and Lynn followed, forcing the hesitant Justice and Sigrun to follow from a distance.

_Should get up, follow_.

Nathaniel couldn't bring himself to do so though, to pick up Velanna and get them to move after the rest, not _yet_. Instead he continued to stay on one knee, with Velanna, holding her tight, as if she'd disappear if he didn't. _Delilah_..._Seranni_..._all_ _the_ _pain_..._it's_..._it's_ _not_ _fair_...

Seranni was lingering behind, inching towards them, her eyes were sad, but nothing near worried, and she eyed the pair with more curiosity then any real emotion. Coming closer she reached out...

And Nathaniel found himself pulling Velanna away from the clawed fingers, glaring through the haze of tears at the filthy creature. "_No_." He snapped the word, an order. "You've done enough to her, leave her alone."

Hesitation...then the elf-turned-monster pulled back, the sadness in her eyes growing for a moment, then gone as its thoughts effortlessly shifted, gaze turning to look after where the others had gone.

She did not turn to cast any final look at her sister, nor spoke any word of goodbye, not even really caring any more.

She left.

A true monster.

And Nathaniel held Velanna tight as the elf wordlessly began to cry, the pair an island of misery in the darkness around them.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being weird._


	44. Chapter 44

The descent was gradual, barely felt.

But they were clearly moving downwards.

Nathaniel was dimly aware of a growing tugging within his chest, a tug that, if he'd paid attention, would have been a fearsome pull.

He didn't though. Instead he let the Architect guide them, next to whom Lynn walked with wide strides, the pair _purpose_ made _flesh_.

Behind them Sigrun and Justice came, the pair looking hesitant and unsure, heads alternating between looking around themselves in suspicion and eyeing the back of the tall emissary with hostility.

Trailing them Velanna and Nathaniel walked, the former still somewhat supported by the later, her tanned flesh still looking as pale as Lynn's as Nathaniel kept an arm around her waist, the other holding her hand as its arm lay draped over his shoulder.. Nathaniel's panic had settled though. _Her_ _eyes_ _are_ _open_, _she_ _can_ _talk_, _she's_ _walking_..._she'll_ _recover_. Nathaniel shot a pained look at the back of the Commander and the Architect, at the darkness before them. _If she survives_...

The only positive thing was that there was no sign of Seranni, the creature having slunk off before Nathaniel and Velanna had even caught up with the others. For what nefarious purpose Nathaniel didn't know, perhaps simply to stay out of the way, but he was grateful for it. _She_ _doesn't_ _need_ _to_ _see_..._to focus on it_. He spoke even as he thought the thought, wanting to keep Velanna's attention: "Have you ever seen the Wending woods from the mountains? It's like a dark green patch in the distance...with the different fields and such around the ground looks like a quilt actually, very nice."

"Uh-hu..." Velanna muttered, eyes distant as she stared at the ground a few feet ahead of them, her mouth moved to say something else, but the words didn't really want to come, her throat moving as she swallowed.

Nathaniel's hold on her tightened, how many times he'd done that now he wasn't sure. "I used to go there in winters when I was much younger, would you believe my father loved to climb the mountains when he was younger? I always tried to beat him...heh...we only stopped the journeys after the time I actually beat him." Nathaniel managed a desperate smile. "Such a sore loser that one..."

"Hmmm..." Velanna looked away, her pale hair covering her face as she trembled against him, struggling to stand a little straighter. _Good_ _sign_? _Bad_ _sign_? _Why_ _won't_ _she_ _look_ _at_ _me_...?

"Oh but I still managed to sneak off the next winter. Had a tent, a blanket and some food. Heh...thought I knew all about climbing by then, and that I had come well prepared. Funny how easy it is to forget oil for the lamp, pegs for the tent, an extra blanket, that you need more food then a few days of it..." Nathaniel shook his head in disbelief, a bit too eagerly to be honest. "Of course I knew I would be punished once I came back, so I decided upon the climb anyway. Heh...father's men found me half-dead a hundred feet from the top...boy did he let me have it once they dragged me before him! Always regretted I didn't manage those last feet...would have made it all-"

A finger on his lips, silencing him.

Looking down in surprise he found Velanna smiling weakly through a drape of pale hair. "You're babbling."

"I am? I didn't realise..." To his surprise Nathaniel found his face heat as he licked his lips. "...I just...well...I felt the need to distract you and didn't really know what else to..." She was standing on her own feet now, but held his hand around her waist still as she leant against his shoulder, breath brushing against his lips. "...do..."

A kiss, small and light...and Nathaniel found his knees wobble with relief.

Pulling back Velanna reluctantly pulled his arm off her waist as she straightened, her smile lingering, even with the shadow of pain nearly hidden in her eyes. "Thank you."

Clearing his throat Nathaniel pulled a hand over his forehead and through his hair, collecting himself. _Dammit, I don't remember being so easily frazzled before_... "Any time my lady, for you, any time..."

And the elf shot him a shy smile, the grief written on her face struggling to endure with the same heat as before...struggling...and _losing_.

He smiled back.

An annoyed growl from Lynn made them both snap out of the moment. Velanna with a grumble. Nathaniel with a sudden flare of worry as his focus shifted to the danger ahead.

_Maker_!

With his focus now on the surroundings he felt the horrible pull at his chest, as if there was a hook in him that was attached to a horse, a galloping horse.

It was a miracle he didn't fall over.

The cave was also widening, only slightly, but unmistakable, the slope too increasing, turning into wide stairs leading downwards.

Ahead there was a choir of growls, growls growing as they approached.

Feeling a sudden bout of panic as he realised just what danger they were in Nathaniel shot the two leading them a frightened look. But neither the Architect nor Lynn seemed to react to the growing hatred rolling against them, the pair calmly marching forth, as if they didn't even hear it.

Then there was a growing light ahead, making Nathaniel narrow his eyes as he stared ahead, fear squeezing his hear tightly as his eyes adapted to the light.

The cave ahead was _large_. Their path opening up into a massive chamber with a ceiling a mile high, circular in shape it was at least half a mile between one end of it to the other. The ground, or what little was visible of it under the black flesh of corruption and armoured boots, was stomped into flat dirt. There was only a single rise in the ground, a corruption-covered rock jutting up at the centre of the chamber, a mere few feet high, a bed. _Or a throne_.

The chamber was _filled_ with darkspawn, nothing but hurlocks in heavy armour, blades bared and mouths open in growls, revealing dark fangs dripping with hunger._ There's thousands of them_... Nathaniel swallowed, only walking forward because he didn't feel as if he fully controlled his body any more. _We're going to die_... He looked over at Velanna, finding the elf looking back at him with her staff in her hands. Her chin was held up, _still_ proud...but there was fear in her eyes. _Once I wouldn't have feared dying_..._I would have accepted it, as something I couldn't change once it came_..._but __now_...

He saw Velanna offer a brave smile, the hands around her staff turning white as she held it close...and felt pride swelling within him._ Very well, if I must feel fear now at the end because of you_..._it was a good trade_. As if reading his thought she nodded, offering him a small smirk.

At the centre of the chamber their target lay. A broodmother, her filthy growth resting upon the bed of stone black and undulating, her upper body was ghostly white and far more spindly then those they had fought before, almost looking starved, her arms thin bony things ending in black claws, her mouth black lips with a strange vertical wound across them.

And her eyes...blood red and focused on the pair with a mad glint in them, making the dozen tentacles rising from around her body sway and shake.

Yet the group advanced, the closest hurlocks baying at them, lunging where they stood, eyes afire with hatred. _We're just going to_...?

"Step aside." The Architect's voice was still soft, yet carried a hint of steel in it.

The hurlocks growled, lunged at the emissary soon within their reach, reminding Nathaniel of dogs tugging at their leashes.

The staff in the Architect's hand wasn't raised for anything but for him to support himself on as he continued to walk, not even _trying_ to cast a spell as he came within the creature's reach...

And the darkspawn parted.

Line after line of hurlocks pushed backwards, pressing against their comrades to keep their distance from the Architect as they continued to growl and bay, lunging at their strange kin, yet not attacking. If they were dogs he was the biggest among them...and they feared him too much to do anything but bark in defiance as they moved aside.

And the Warden's followed.

Nathaniel felt his spine tickle as he looked left and right, finding hurlocks all around them as they moved into the sea of filth. All of the creatures were glaring at him in bestial hatred, lunging, growing, baying...yet never crossing that invisible threshold that would bring them too close to the Architect. Their hatred washed over him, but it was an impotent hatred, raging as much at him as of the unseen bars keeping them away from him.

_This is madness_...

And then they were before the broodmother, the obscene thing looking down at them with a big grin on its black lips. "So the Father returns!" Its voice was shrill and cackling, the madness within it bubbling with each word. "The Mother is pleased!"

"I am not the Father." The emissary replied, a tone of weariness in his tone. "I have told you this many times."

"No matter Father!" The broodmother cackled, head turning left and right, swaying, as if unable to stay still. "You want to stop the song! Yes, yes, the song! We _need_ the song! My children _need_ the song!"

"I did not set you free for you to choose slavery once more..." The Architect muttered, sounding _unsure_...Nathaniel got the feeling that the darkspawn wasn't so much protesting its choice as he didn't _understand_ it, as if any choice but his own was far too confusing to comprehend. _That can't be good_... "I am sorry, but you must be destroyed, the old gods must not be awakened."

The cackle from the broodmother rose and fell at that, its upper body twisting, rolling backwards, the massive tentacles sprouting from the ground swaying. "The Father says such things! The Father wants me not to awaken the song! The Father who did it himself!"

Suddenly Lynn, who had stood silent at the exchange, weapons drawn, flinched, her head cocking to the side: "What?"

"You don't know?" The broodmother went still, looking down at the elf with a small grin, a grin _widening_ as its gaze darted to the shifting Architect. "You didn't tell her! Hahahahaha! You didn't _tell_ her!" The cackle rose and fell, the creature's spindly arms coming up in a vain attempt to hold back the mirth. "The Father is such a trickster! Yes, yes...such a trickster!"

There was a hint of worry in the Architect's dry voice: "Mother.."

The broodmother cackle tore at them as she pointed a clawed hand at the emissary. "It was he who awakened the song! He who tried to _stop_ it _awakened_ the song! The song _you_..." It pointed its clawed finger at Lynn, grinning madly. "...stopped..." And then let the finger return to point at the Architect. "...was _his_ doing!"

_Maker_...

Lynn turned still, a statue in armour.

And the Mother laughed.

"That revelation was...unfortunate..." The Architect muttered, turning his shaking head towards Lynn as he said: "Another mistake I assure you, I did not intend to start the blight, I am much thankful that you-"

"You..." Lynn's voice was but a whisper, her helmeted head turning slowly to regard the emissary. "...started the blight?"

"I did, it was my intention to free the creature, or kill it if need be..." The Architect bowed its head. "...I failed."

"Failed?" Lynn repeated, the word echoing in the chamber as the growls of the hurlocks around them went silent. "_Failed_?" She turned towards the emissary, her body shaking. "_Failed_!"

The Architect took a step back. "Now remember, we have a common goal, let not your kin's emotions get the better of-"

"_FAILED_!" Lynn's voice broke, the word as much a roar as it was a shriek as her sword swung forth.

With an explosion of green light the Architect's staff snapped in two as the creature moved it forth to block the weapon. A shriek arose from him as dark blood welled from the stump that was his left arm, the limb twitching as it dropped to the ground.

Lynn moved to swing her axe...only for the Architect's right hand to be raised along with a word of power, making him disappear in a cloud of dust and smoke that Lynn's weapon uselessly swung through.

The Mother cackled in amusement, the hurlocks roared in rage.

Neither of which was anything compared to the howl of pain and frustration escaping the Commander.

Then everything happened at once.

The sea of darkspawn around them rushed forth from all sides, only for the first ranks to be tossed back by a circle of fire exploding up from the ground, the flames a dozen feet high and turning the corruption covering the floor into smouldered ash, Velanna's staff already spinning as she moved to cast another spell

Several tentacles shot up from the ground, only for one to be felled like a tree trunk by the swing of a charging Justice, the undead warrior crashing shield first into the lower body of the Mother.

Those tentacles already sprouted rushing forth, swinging down at the group, only for Sigrun to leap upon them like a circus performer before jumping towards the broodmother, her swinging axes almost striking its throat before its clawed hands caught the dwarf by the wrists with a cackle.

A large Alpha hurlock rushing through the flames, swinging a massive broadsword after the running Lynn, only to drop prone as Nathaniel's bow sang, putting an arrow in the gap underneath its horned helmet.

The bulk of the tentacles coming out of the ground went for the running elf...who danced through them as if they were nothing, her darting weapons leaving black blood and torn ligaments in their wake as she leapt forth, her weapons gouging two deep wounds at the base of the broodmother's upper body and down the front of its lower body.

Blood flooded out, pouring over the elf.

And the broodmother cackled even louder, her mouth opening, the vertical slit across her mouth suddenly _widening_, making her cheeks open like a flower, revealing a wide mouth underneath, exposed to the blackened gums, fangs the size of daggers.

Still cackling she leant forward...and bit into Sigrun's head.

There was a shriek, the dwarf shaking in the broodmother's grip as the claws around her wrists tightened along with the teeth around her helmet.

And then an explosion of gore as Sigrun's body fell to the floor, her severed hands still holding their axes as they dropped next to the body, her neck twitching as the broodmother loudly chewed with a mad grin in its eyes.

Nathaniel felt cold.

"Foul beast!" Justice cried out, using a felled tentacle to leap up at the broodmother, his thrust hitting it in its left armpit, drawing dark blood as the weapon wedged into her torso.

A cough, followed by a cackle, and the broodmother's hand backhanded the spirit warrior across the helmet, sending both warrior and weapon flying back.

Advancing Nathaniel loosed an arrow, taking the creature in the chest, then another, and another.

The creature's cackle never faltered.

_Maker it's_...

Then Lynn jumped from the broodmother's lower body, her axe a glittering arch...

And the left arm of the broodmother was torn off , making the creature wail and swing wildly about, blood sprouting from the wound.

"Nathaniel!" He spun around, watching Justice stumble to his feet and slam his blade into the gut of an oncoming hurlock as the flames surrounding them died away.

The creature spewed blood into the face of the undead warrior, who pushed the creature off with a swing of his shield...only to be bowled over as the ones following it poured over him like a charging herd, knocking him onto his back, only for him to disappear beneath their stomping feet and swinging weapons.

Then fire, white, _searing_ fire, struck them, like a blow from a giant, sending gutted and burning hurlocks flying.

Velanna's staff swung about...and another shot of white fire escaped the tip of it, smashing aside screaming hurlocks and sending their scorched and torn remains showering the horde closing the gap with them.

With a grunt Justice showed a burnt corpse aside, his movement slow as he picked himself up...

And then he was flying upward.

His hands and legs splayed wide as a tentacle smashed out from the ground and into his back and through his torso, blood flying from the gap and running down the gnarled tentacle.

Velanna howled in hatred, her staff swinging back, frost flowing from it, turning the base of the tentacle into ice.

Nathaniel pulled the string back taut...and his bow's song was accompanied by the crash of the loosed arrow smashing apart the frozen thing, toppling it over.

With a crash the tentacle came down, crashing into the sea of hurlocks around them, drawing cries of hatred and delight from the creatures as they leapt over it, jumping atop the still speared warrior now hidden from sight by the many hurlocks charging at them.

_I have to_...

Velanna's eyes glowed green as she looked at him, eyes wide, hand pointing over his shoulder: "No! Help _her_!" Then she turned back, her staff raised...and dozens of thin roots shot out from it, smashing into the charging ranks of the hurlocks, bowling them over where they didn't outright spear them.

Once more spinning around Nathaniel found Lynn struggling within the grip of the broodmother, a thick tentacle tightly wrapped around the Commander's arms and chest, squeezing tightly as it pulled her closer, the red eyes of the Mother glowing with mad glee.

Then Lynn went still, her head was still held high, moving to look at the broodmother pulling her up to its face, but there was no resistance, just...waiting.

With a cackle the broodmother's remaining hand came to grip Lynn's helmet as her mouth opened, fangs dripping with the blood of Sigrun coming closer...

_No_.

Nathaniel took a step forward, a hand coming to his quiver as he raised his bow.

There was a low crunch as Lynn's armour began to give to the crushing tightness of the tentacle.

Another step forward and Nathaniel had the arrow nocked, the string already being pulled back.

There was a low chuckle from the Mother as she leant forward, the claws of her hand digging holes into the helmet of the still not resisting Lynn, her mouth opening for the bite...

Nathaniel aimed...and the arrow flew.

With a screech or protesting metal the head of the arrow tore along the side of Lynn's helmet, sending sparks flying before pushing past the obstruction...to the nearly blocked target.

With a scream the Mother reared back, dropping Lynn onto the ground as her remaining arm flailed about, clawing madly at the arrow stuck in her left eye. "The song! The _sooong_!"

Suddenly Nathaniel was flying, the ground under him having exploded as tentacles shot up all around, blindly trashing around, swinging and crashing, smashing charging hurlocks into a pulp, tearing at the ground, one nearly tearing Nathaniel's head off as he barely ducked in time.

Ahead of him Lynn was moving, animated once more, the elf a blur as she leapt upon a tentacle, using it to launch herself at the broodmother, tearing a wide gash across the creature's upper body before landing on the back of its lower body, her weapons swinging wildly, tearing great wounds in the bulbous body.

"No! The song!" The Mother howled, her body swaying as more tentacles shot up, swinging after the darting form of the Commander, smashing into the broodmother's lower body and smashing it open time and time again. "The _song_!"

_Danger_!

Nathaniel spun round on instinct, finding Velanna falling onto her back, her skin pale, smoke rising from her body from the intense spellcasting that had torn such great holes in the darkspawn around them.

Holes instantly swallowed as the roaring beasts charged forth...

Impossible to stop...

_No_!

Nathaniel took a step forth.

And the closest hurlock died, an arrow in its skull.

_I will not accept it_!

He leapt over a madly swinging tentacle even as his bow sung a second time.

And hurlock towering over the elf fell, the arrow in its shoulder making it spin around, the curved blade in its hand cutting the throat of another that strayed too close.

_I will not let it happen_!

Two tentacles came at him, in horizontal slashes.

And he jumped between them, rolled with the landing, came up...and sent a third arrow flying, the missile smashing through the breastplate of his target and making the beast stumble back with a gurgle of penetrated lungs.

_I will not let hope die_!

Three arrows, loosed at the same time, struck three separate targets, sending three clouds of iron dust exploding over the charging beasts...making all around them howl in pain as they clawed at their blinded eyes.

And Nathaniel was next to Velanna, scooping her up, pulling her back.

And falling as the tip of a blindly swinging tentacle clipped his ankle, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

He found his breath knocked out of his chest, found Velanna next to him, her face sweaty and completely exhausted...and sad. "I'm sorry..."

Nathaniel managed a smile. "Don't be."

Then the shadows of the roaring darkspawn fell over them and they found themselves looking up as the monsters swarmed around them, clawing at one another in their eagerness to be the one to land the killing blow.

_Life's never fair_...

The howl was deafening.

With a great cry the darkspawn dropped their weapons, many falling on their knees as their hands came up to grip their skulls, many ripping great chunks out of them as others dug their claws into themselves...

Blinking Nathaniel and Velanna both rolled over onto their sides to look up and back at the Mother.

The broodmother was trashing wildly, her lower body a gory mess of beaten flesh, her right arm now cut off as well as her upper body swung back and fort in panic.

But she couldn't swing away, not far enough from Lynn. The Commander's axe had been hooked into the broodmother's neck like reins, pulling her ever backwards as Lynn's sword again and again appeared out of the chest of the Mother, sending rivers of blood from the wounds down her torso.

The Mother howled, trying to tear her head free from the grip, only to have the axe come loose with a bloody chunk of her throat, turning the howl into a gurgle.

Then Lynn crashed into her back, the Commander's left arm wrapped itself around the torn throat of the broodmother as her right trust her sword thought the middle of the Mother's chest in an explosion of gore, making the creature jerk and manage a pitiful moan...

A twist of the blade, a crunch...and the broodmother went limp.

And everywhere the howling darkspawn fled.

Nathaniel blinked, disbelieving.

Looking around himself, disbelieving.

At the wide-eyed Velanna, disbelieving.

So much death...and they lived...

Such hopelessness...and they were still there...

Such odds...and hope endured.

He couldn't do anything but shake his head, _disbelieving_, his voice a mere mutter: "I guess you're right..."

And Velanna smiled.

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The outside was still a wasteland.

But there was an odd..._energy_ to it...Velanna couldn't explain it...but it was as if there was suddenly a _potential_ for life again.

Crouching she put her palm against the ground, her eyes closing momentarily as she felt it..._water_...deep beneath...welling...growing...washing away the foulness bellow them. With a small smile she sent a small trickle of energy down the palm of her hand...

When she straightened a single flower had sprouted, a mere seedling...but she _knew_ it would blossom...as would the land. _All wounds may be healed_...

The grief tore at her, but only for a moment, the relief still too strong as she turned to regard Nathaniel. The man was tired, exhausted even, she could see that. Yet there was still life in him, more so then a few hours ago. While his head was bowed in respect before the two graves before him, one with a sword sticking out from the ground, another with a twin set of axes laid upon it...there was an unmistakable little smile on his lips.

Not disrespectful, just relieved, _thankful_...and Velanna could do nothing but smile at him, a smile the man softly returned in kind.

Lynn stood between them, with them, yet _apart_.

Her armour was stills whole, save three wide holes torn in the helmet still covering her head, a head slightly inclined as she looked at the flower Velanna had brought to life. There was something...strange with the other elf's stance, arms hanging to the side, shoulders slouching, leaning on one leg...

With a start Velanna realised their Commander was relaxed.

"Commander..." Nathaniel stepped closer to Velanna as he turned to face Lynn, his face serious save the small smile tugging at his lips, he bowed his head at the woman even as his hand came to find Velanna's, holding onto it tightly. "...you've done it...the land of Amaranthine is safe..." The smile turned almost amused for a moment. "...for all that I have disa-" He shook his head, a small laugh bubbling out of him, Velanna found herself grinning, echoing his relief as she squeezed his hand. "...no...just...thank you...you've saved...well...everything that I..." He swallowed, words failing.

Silence.

A comfortable, soothing, silence.

Then Lynn's arms moved up, clicking the clasps to her helmet open.

A small sigh...and she lifted the helmet off.

Her face was even paler then before, ghostly white, making the veins underneath her skin stand out like a blue spider-net.

Some of her hair had fallen out, the rest having turned white and thin, making her look ancient.

And she was _smiling_.

Velanna blinked.

The smile was nothing but genuine, relieved, calm...at _peace_. "The threat to Ferelden is over." It was a statement, pure and simple...and the elf's smile widened, her relief palpable. "Finally over."

Neither Nathaniel nor Velanna said anything, they couldn't, there was nothing _to_ say.

A small laugh, coming from a mouth unfamiliar with uttering it, escaped the woman. "_Finally_ over..."

"Yes Commander." Nathaniel spoke softly, eyes strangely curious as they eyed Lynn.

"No, not that..." Lynn's smile spoke of nothing but _relief_. "..._never_ that again. I have done...all that can be asked of me...I am...at peace."

Velanna found herself smiling. It was _true_, the elf, for all her haggard look..._truly_ looked at ease.

A step forward, and Lynn put her torn helmet in Nathaniel's hands, the smile never faltering. "Take good care of them..." A smirk. "..Commander Howe."

Nathaniel opened his mouth, hesitated, then nodded. "Yes C...Lynn."

A small laugh. "They're your problem now!"

Nathaniel shot Velanna a confused look, but Velanna could only smile as she kept her gaze upon their former Commander.

A glowing smile met her as Lynn turned her focus to her: "Take care of him..." A moment of hesitation, the elf moving a hand up to her lip, eyes distant for but a moment. Then the smile was back in full force. "...and yourself..._always_."

Velanna bowed her head. "Always."

Another small laugh bubbled out of Lynn, almost innocent in its awkwardness. "Good!"

The woman turned on her heel...and began to walk away.

Nathaniel couldn't help it, his words calling out, through the comfortable silence: "Where will you go?"

Lynn didn't turn around as she walked, only shrugged as she with another laugh replied: "To peace..."

And the pair could do nothing but hold each other's hands as they watched her head for the sunrise...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her continued and much appreciated support._

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_And yes, there will be an epilogue people, two in fact._


	45. Epilogue 1 From death

Durkon eyed the great gate with suspicion.

The lights of the runes within the great tunnel had dimmed, their power fading from the wear of time and the slouching remains of darkspawn corruption.

That was one reason for him suspecting danger.

The filthy flesh, black and purple, covering the walls, stunk of rotting meat and something acrid. Though for some reason it was fading here, as if slowly slouching off the walls, melting away... Still, that could mean deepstalkers, _lots_ of them.

The duster was far too deep in darkspawn territory for his own liking. The chainmail he'd been assigned as a scout in the dwarf army still felt unfamiliar, as did the awkward sword strapped to his waist. He wanted his daggers...

Still, no duster with some sense in his or her head wouldn't take king Bhelen up on his offer to join the army in exchange for food, shelter, weapons, and more importantly...self respect. And while the scorn of the warrior caste soldiers still remained, as with every caste, the dusters were now a force to be reckoned with, allied with a king working _with_ them as much as for them.

Not that Durkon cared all that much about those things, he'd seen an opportunity, that was all. With being in the army came the right, nay, demand, for him to venture into the deep roads. And in the deep roads there were _treasures_... Durkon might be a 'respectable' citizen by now, but that only meant he had an easier time looting things for the black market back with his old contacts...

It did bring risks however, and this was one of those times he seriously considered going back to rob the odd passer-by at dagger point._ I ain't dying for some coins or ideals dammit_..

The gate ahead looked dark and foreboding. Not only was the two large towers flanking it in surprisingly good condition, sporting several dark holes from whence darkspawn archers could be watching him at that moment, but the gate itself was actually standing, neither broken open or hanging from smashed hinges. _Could darkspawn take care of such things_? Durkon once more eyed the many dark holes in the towers but saw nothing.

The door was also hanging slightly ajar, almost inviting him to take a look.

Durkon didn't like it.

With a frown he shot a glance at his partner in crime.

Kando was as stupid as he looked, his large nose shooting out from a face otherwise dominated by a bushy tan beard, a nose he constantly picked, refusing to understand the childishness of such an act. Still, Kando had his uses. While stupid he had a good instinctual sense for when danger was afoot, something Durkon exploited at every opportunity, not only that but he was strong enough to help Durkon carry the heavier loot without ever thinking of asking for a bigger cut in their win.

"Well? What do you think?" Durkon hissed the words, shifting where he stood, a hand resting on his sword even as he tensed to run away.

Kando's finger came out of his nose, only to move up to rub the bridge. He didn't take his eyes of the movement, as if it required all his concentration: "Uh...about what boss?" Durkon couldn't help but wince. _Why is he speaking so damn __loud_!

"Have you been drinking again?" Durkon snapped, glaring at Kando.

The bigger dwarf shied away, despite being far more proficient with the swords they had been assigned, but then again Durkon had long ago made sure the other man knew his place...as the white scar across the bulbous nose still showed.

Durkon sighed, his shoulders slumping in visual exasperation of Kando, when they actually did it out of relief. "Lets go." He waved his hand and advanced on the door, only to slow down so his hurrying partner ended up just ahead of him.

Then regretted his decision as Kando, without an ounce of forethought, pushed the door wide open and stepped through.

With a growl Durkon stepped after his partner as the larger dwarf stumbled to a halt. "Kando you stupid-"

_By the stones._..

Durkon found his jaw drop, looking around himself with awe as he slowly took a step forward, not having realised he'd slammed to a stop.

They had stepped into a massive hall. Below them a dark abyss lay, a hundred feet in length and at least twice as wide, how deep impossible to tell, a single bridge of stone large enough for two walk next to one another built across it. The arched roof was of simple stone, carved out into a great dome. The floor itself had been carved into three levels of six feet in heigh, rapidly going narrower the further up one got.

The darkspawn corruption covered much of the walls, but here too it was fading, tears having appeared in it, making it look as if it had seeped from the top and then run down in tendrils along the walls, then dried and begun to wither.

Durkon didn't pay that much heed though, corruption in the deep roads wasn't an odd sigh, nor massive chambers.

What he stared at was the carnage.

He only had to take a few furtive steps onto the bridge before he had to step over the first corpses, genlocks and hurlocks, ripped open and torn apart, as if a storm of blades had just sweapt right through them as they had tried to cross. Durkon winced as he bumped into one, it's limp arm hanging over the edge of the bridge swaying slightly at the impact, as dead as the creature.

Right at the end of the bridge two ogres lay. One was lying on its side, missing its left leg, stomach cut from crotch to chest. The other lay sprawled on its back, its skull practically cleaved in two.

Durkon winced, forcing himself to step up on the chest of the second one, his disgust with it quickly faded though as the awe continued to grasp him.

The chamber was filled with darkspawn corpses, they lay in _piles_, the ground black with their blood. _No_, _one_ _big_ _pile_. Durkon swallowed as he realised that the many dead atop the chamber actually formed a sick sort of pyramid, dead upon dead forming a peaked top of torn bodies and rent flesh.

"B-boss..." It was impossible not to follow Kando's shaky finger as it pointed up at the top of the pyramid, Durkon's own gaze already drawn towards it.

_May the stone be praised_...

Durkon and Kando begun to climb as one, quickly scaling the corpses, the blood clinging to their hands and feet forgotten, the scrapes they received on crude and torn armour not even felt.

Then they were at the top, panting, gasping for breath, staring.

The body was seated between two slain ogres, a rune-covered axe still buried deep in the skull of the one to its left. Behind it a shriek stood crouched, its taloned hands still resting upon the shoulders of the corpse, a still glowing blade held reversed in a silvery gauntlet still buried in its gut.

And the body itself...Durkon licked his lips as he saw the silvery suit of armour covering the surprisingly small and petite warrior before him. As with the corruption running down the walls of the chamber the blood that might once had covered the armour had crusted up and now only covered it in trails...as if the purity of the silver was slowly repelling the filth upon it. It was in surprisingly good shape, no tears, no holes, it was as if the warrior had only chosen to sit down and take a rest from all the slaying done so far.

_The sword, the axe, the armour_..._it's a fortune_! Durkon's awe turned to glee._ We're rich_!

"This is good boss...right?" Kando asked, hesitantly echoing Durkon's thoughts.

"Oh yes..." Durkon nodded even as he let his eyes move upwards. "...very..." He found himself hesitating. "...good?"

The body couldn't had been there long, nor could the horde she'd slain been, the stench wasn't yet overpowering after all, nor had any deepstalkers arrived. Yet the exposed head of the warrior was one of a corpse _long_ dead.

Durkon found himself shivering, not the least surprised to find the corpse to be an elf, considering all the strangeness around him he wouldn't be surprised if she actually got to her feet...he inched backwards.

There was something eerie with it, the white hair hanging from a gaunt face, a face that seemed to have been eaten away long before the warrior's death, exposing a web of dark blue veins across the withered face. The eyes were large, open, and by now milky white, a hint of lustre somewhere deep within them..._looking_ at him..._following_ him...

Yet all that paled with the lips, those dark blue lips were slightly crooked at the corners, just enough to hint at a smile. A second look and Durkon realised that the corners of the eyes too were wrinkled as if the warrior was smiling in death, that the entire _face_ was one big smile.

It wasn't a mad grin, not a relaxed one of someone relieved, not even a smirk of victory for whatever cause the strange warrior had fought for.

It was _serene_.

"I'm going to buy me a nug-steak to celebrate." Kando laughed softly, taking a step forth to grab a hold of the warrior's gauntlet, to wrench it off.

"No." Durkon didn't realise he had spoken until he had placed a hand on the wrist of his partner.

"Boss?" Kando's eyebrows arched high as he looked back at Durkon.

Durkon, always the practical.

Durkon, the ruthless.

Durkon, who had killed a fellow duster over a piece of copper once.

Who now found himself shaking his head, unable to understand what had gotten into him as he softly pulled Kando's hands away. "No buddy...not this one." Even his voice was muffled, low, reverent.

Kando's mouth moved, but no words came, then the bigger dwarf moved to follow Durkon back down the pile of dead.

They said nothing as they slowly walked back across the bridge, both glancing back at the still seated warrior in confusion.

Only once they had escaped the chamber did he manage to speak: "B-boss...I don't understand..."

Durkon shook his head, refusing to meet his partner's gaze as he looked back at the closing gate. Even now he found his voice muffled, himself...sombre. "Neither do I buddy, neither do I..."

With a click the gate closed behind them.


	46. Epilogue 2 To life

Velanna was exhausted.

Exhilarated.

In pain.

In bliss.

Breathing heavily she stayed on her back, her muscles unable to move, save the twitching, an urge to run shooting through her despite her state.

She was hurting all over, as if her body was one big bruise, as if someone had taken a sledge and beaten her for hours. Yet now there was a sweet relief, the pain was still there, but throbbing, a pain that oddly enough brought with it happiness.

Around her there was the buzz of insects in the grassy field she was laying on, a compromise between her wish to be in the forest and Nathaniel's demand for them to stay in the keep. Somewhere below she heard the murmur of two women, knowing one to be the old matron of the Keep and the other to be a Keeper from the Dalish that had come to honour the rulers of Amaranthine.

The sounds were minimal, yet buzzed through her, wonderful even as it stung her currently oddly sensitive hearing.

Her head was resting on a pillow, Nathaniel's knees resting on the grass just next to it, the man looking down at her with a mix of relief, worry, happiness and wonder...mostly happiness.

One of his hands came within her vision, a by now familiar cloth in it, wiping her forehead as he'd done for a near hundred times now. "You had me worried." His voice was hushed, soft, a far cry from the slightly panicked orders he'd given her before.

Velanna smirked, finding even that small effort difficult. "You always worry."

"Someone has to." Nathanial gave her a stern look, that faded a moment later, the man unable to maintain it as the smile broke through. "Damn I was...don't do that again."

"I..." Velanna managed a weak laugh. "...will try."

And then the matron's voice cut through, but it was a respectfully low voice, kind: "Do you wish to hold him?"

Velanna made a move to sit up, but couldn't even rise an inch, Nathaniel had already sensed her desire and quickly leant to his right, momentarily disappearing out of sight before returning with a small bundle of cloth in his hands.

His face was expressionless, slack, as he stared at the bundle in his arms.

Velanna managed another weak laugh, her eagerness easily defeated by the strange flood of happiness she seemed to be swimming in. "Well don't let me disturb you..."

"S..." Nathainel stuttered, then cleared his throat...only once he had blinked did he seem to finally come back to the real world. "...sorry...I just...here..."

Velanna felt a pang of frustration as she tried to raise her arms, only to find them weighing a ton, it had been a far too long delivery... _Never will I_-

She found herself frozen to the spot as Nathaniel leant forward to show the babe, all wrinkly skin, almost purple in colour, yet quickly turning pink before her eyes. The child's eyes were so large...staring at her with something akin to curiosity, _tiny_ hands held in front of him, as if ready to fight even in his _tiny_ state.

_Tiny_...

Velanna choked out a laugh, suddenly finding tears in her eyes. _Can't believe such a tiny little thing could cause such pain_..._such_..._Gods_..._I thank you_. "Hello you..." Her voice was not her own, small and quivering even as she smiled.

She saw the rounded ears of the babe and found herself sagging with relief as she realised she didn't care in the least about it... All she cared about was those large intelligent eyes, those _tiny_ little fists, that _tiny_ little belly, those _tiny_ stumpy legs...

She _had_ to try it, had to taste the word: "Hello...son..."

"I think he has your spirit." Nathaniel said with a smile, a finger carefully poking the raised fists of the boy, making the large eyes move over to his father, taking in the weathered features with something akin to suspicion.

Velanna chuckled back. "And your eyes..."

Silence.

Then Nathaniel, staring at the babe in wonder, echoed her chuckle, his shoulders shaking with emotion. "I can't believe we did it..."

Neither could Velanna to be truthful. Elven and human, mage and normal, Dalish and human noble...and most of all...warden and warden.

All had been against it, the odds too stacked against them to even be considered, something Nathaniel for _two_ _years_ had again and again pointed out, trying to curb Velanna's decisive optimism, trying to stop her from being disappointed. 

But she had _never_ lost hope, as Nathaniel had known she wouldn't, and now Nathaniel held their boy...proof of that they once more had defied the odds.

She managed a chuckle, relief slowly settling over her like a blanket, making her drowsy. "Told you, perseverance pays off..."

A soft laugh and Nathaniel was leaning forward, planting a careful kiss upon her lips, keeping their child between them, more careful then with his family bow. "Maker I love you..."

"You're going soft..." Velanna muttered back with a warm smile even as she managed to raise her right arm, Nathaniel instantly taking her hand, squeezing it softly.

For a moment they stayed like that, content, in wonder.

Then the matron spoke again: "What will we name him my lord?"

To his credit Nathaniel barely flinched, his eyes kind as they moved from the babe to Velanna. "Well? My lady?"

Velanna basked in the acceptance of the man, of having claimed her right, of what gift she held.

They had argued about it for three months, mostly Velanna doing the arguing and Nathaniel not wanting to hear it. But she had worn him down, bit by bit...until he had relented, swayed by her demands and arguments as much as by the headache she no doubt had begun to give him.

Velanna was the mother, she had the right to name the child.

And there had been only one reason for her to argue for it.

With a warm smile she looked into the intelligent eyes of the tiny child, then up to Nathaniel. "I name him..." She felt herself flush with emotion. "...Alistair..." _For what brought us all here_. "Howe." _For you_.

Nathaniel went still.

Something got caught in his throat.

Then the tears came, the man looking away. "You..._thank_ _you_..."

Velanna's hand managed to sneak out of his and move up to his neck, bringing him closer as she managed a grin. "Could it have gone any other way?"

Then she kissed him.

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_A thank you to Abydos Jackson for her continued help and support, without her this story wouldn't have reached even half of its potential._


End file.
